Symphony of a Spirit
by Valledorthedragon
Summary: Ever since his mother died, Hiccup had never heard the piano in quite the same way, and it might be about to ruin his chances of a future as a musician. But a walk in the park might just change all that- as he comes across a silvery ghost, who plays the violin.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Oh my gosh it feels like forever! I'm so sorry for that, but (long explanation short to anyone who wants to know) I've been starting a lot of stories and not finishing many- and you know I like to finish before posting so I can ensure daily updates (and also had an unofficial hiatus over Christmas where I lost the will to write)**

 **Anyways- this story! It was going to be a long oneshot but well... It turned into this. (You'll see what I mean). Oh- and this was all on one document so sorry if the chapter sizes are a bit (coughalotcough) skewed cos it was really hard to judge size.**

 **Other than that guys I'm super excited to be back! I cant wait to hear from you guys, and I do hope you'll take the time to write a few words to me every now and then (it means a lot as you know- especially after so long) so yeah! Let's get going! Hope you guys enjoy it! Please review, and I'll see you tommorow with the next update!**

 **(It's been too long since I've said that XD)**


	2. Chapter 2

Symphony of a Spirit

 **Authors note: hey again! Like I said- super excited over this one cos it's been so long! Congrats if you guessed it was inspired by "your lie in April" (only seen the first few episodes, but my sisters already spoiled the whole thing XD sounds good at least) anyways to get a real sense of the story check out snakes your lie in April medley (girl voice Jack, boy voice hiccup- you'll get what I mean ;-D) that's all for now! Enjoy! I'll see you guys tommorow^^ ooh- and please let me know what you think^^**

He drummed his fingers across the tops of the false ivory keys laid out before him- dozens of thoughts racing round his head, and not all of them focussed on the motionless black and white bars he stared at helplessly. Without warning, his fingers suddenly stabbed down, flying across the keys in a tangled mess of chords and notes- as if, by aimlessly scattering his nimble hands up and down the same length of piano, he would somehow come up with a miraculous work of composition. His fingers moved with the ease of someone who'd played the instrument their whole life. But, no matter what he did, he just couldn't seem to make any form of music come from the grand piano- decent or otherwise. He sighed, a discordant complaint issuing from the piano as he slammed his elbows into the useless row of colourless bars- burying his face in hands. He groaned his pent up frustration into the little self created cave, letting his hands attempt to drown out the noise.

He stayed there like that for a moment... If nothing else, it hid how close to tears he was from the sheer stress that was laid upon him. It was half seven- the concert started at nine- and he was still yet to even start composing the ten minute piece required for the elite competition (and it was the finals to boot). The winner got a trophy, and a cash prize, but it wasn't that he was interested in. He, like all the other competitors, knew that ambassadors from the top academies all around the country would be attending the concert hall tonight- scouting for the newest talent to let into their prestigious courses.

That was the real prize of the performance. An opportunity to grab one of those scouts attention, and- if they were lucky- earn place at their elite schools. Rumours that had been floating round had everyone particularly excited... and they had recently been confirmed. The biggest, most famous, most successful school of the entire industry- Arendelle Academy- would indeed be sending scouts to attend today's finals. All the best musicians of the last century had come from Arendelle. It was a place where only the best were let in and only the best came out. For Hiccup, attending such an establishment would be nothing short of a dream come true... and now he had his chance.

This concert was his ticket in- this was his shot at success... If only (he slammed his hands in frustration against the unyielding keys, once again drawing another toneless moan from the instrument) he could get this damn piano to work!

This wasn't helping, he thought, trying to gather his thoughts again- he lost track of the amount of times he'd done this over the course of the evening. He bridged his fingers over his nose, and took a few deep breathes. It wasn't like he was a bad player- he was actually pretty good, and he was even a half decent composer given the right inspiration... But, it had to be today. Of all the hundreds of days in the year, it had to be the day that she-. He tried to stop his thoughts there, but it was too late.

His head bowed down as every last dark thought and emotion he'd been trying so hard to hold back assaulted him- and suddenly his head seemed to weigh twice as heavily as it normally did. His heart felt like a hollow stone.

He didn't want to be like this. He never wanted to be one of those people who just couldn't seem to let go of the past. He really did want to be able to say he'd put it behind him... But now, it seemed no matter what he did, he just couldn't stop the flow of bittersweet memories pouring out through the scars in his heart. He wanted to be able to stand tall and say he'd let it go- time had healed the wounds- he was over it... But it had been seven years since she-... since his mother passed away... and still she haunted him as though it had happened yesterday. He'd only been eleven years old, but it looked as though the pain would last a lifetime. He just couldn't seem to let her go. Every time he looked at those monotone keys...

He just hadn't been able to play the same since the day she... left. He could still play. He could go through Mozart and Beethoven without a single flaw or mistake... and yet... it never sounded right to him. The music now was just as colourless to him as the piano keys- as lifeless as it's stiff, wooden legs... and the rhythm was all wrong. It was as if the chords that were supposed to resonate with a musician's heart as they played had nowhere to touch... or maybe they had reached his grief stricken heart, but had no way to shake it out of its depressed stupor.

He considered himself lucky if he managed to compose anything- but tonight, on the anniversary of her death? He stood no chance. Ever since she left, he'd gone deaf to the true beauty of music... He heard it... But it was always just a meaningless mashup of notes and chords- devoid of any feeling or emotion that separated the good music from the great.

He tried to be good- he really did- but every time he touched those keys, all those memories of her just came flooding back, tearing open the sorrow again. Memories of her sat by his side- her patient smile as she guided his hands along the shiny, brand new keys. The piano had almost seemed to have colour back then. He swore the whites had become almost golden in hue- and the blacks had held the blue of the deepest ocean trenches. She just had that kind of effect on everything. She made it bright and colourful- even something as monotone as a piano, she'd still found a way to bring out its colour. That was just the person she was. The most brilliant person ever, to him, and the first and only one to believe in him. His father tried, but he couldn't wrap his head round the delicate, fine art that piano was.

He supposed he did his best to support him, but he could tell he disapproved of his desicion. His dad had been against the piano from the beginning- he wanted his son to choose a much more stable or noble profession. Policing? Even something as simple as store manager. Not a musician. His dad was old fashioned in his ideals. He just couldn't get over the fact that his son wanted to play the dainty instrument that was meant to be reserved for girls. Working hard to bring men to tears through music. Inspiring emotion- the one thing his father was just too stubborn, and too proud, to ever let himself feel. His dad doubted he could make a living from this- his dad didn't believe in him- but his mum had... And she was gone.

His dad would want nothing more than for him to give up and get himself a 'real' job. This concert was a chance to prove it to him. He could do it. He could make it as a musician- and he could make a living off it. Maybe, it would even make him proud if he came home carrying that trophy. But now, of course, when he needed it most, his ability to play just seemed to have abandoned him. He couldn't even play a single note right now.

He took a long breath and drew himself upright once again- placing the tips of his fingers lightly across the keys as he ran through his posture check. Straight back, middle of the stool, feet on the floor, fingers loose and with a slight curve as though he was holding an invisible apple... Okay. He could do this. Everyone had to start somewhere, he reminded himself. He just had to think of something...

think...

Think...

THINK!

He slammed down the cover back over the keys. Useless brain! He thought, as he got up and pushed his feet into some shoes. Shoving his arms into a coat as he wriggling his heels into the worn, black shoes- forcibly ignoring the fancy, new, well polished ones that sat, all shining and black, next to them... Hollow and black- just like the piano. The world of the pianist was a very dark and colourless place, he noticed, closing and locking the front door behind him. His dad was out working late as always. He barely ever saw him home, so he was used to locking up and looking after himself. His dad didn't care whether he went out or not- he could do whatever he wanted so long as he saw himself to bed at an appropriate time.

He just needed a walk, he convinced himself. That was all. He just needed to clear his head a little. Maybe it would help... Although, if he was being honest, he was using any excuse to get away from that old piano at this point. He just couldn't stand her lingering presence there. Some would've took comfort in feeling that their loved ones were still with them- but to him it was just a painful reminder of what never was, and what could've been.

He strode along the path quickly, hands tucked into his pockets as he tried to force his emotions out onto the open, cool air- walking his overly crammed thoughts out onto the pavement with every step. He thought it would help. It didn't seem to be doing anything.

His legs started taking him up towards the park, the only place he ever went outside to. Why did it have to be today? He thought, oblivious to everything around him. The occasional hum of a passing car on the almost silent street. A distant wail of sirens. Ambulance? Or, more likely, the police.

He crossed over the road, a quick glance confirming what the silence already said about the traffic (or lack of it), and wandered straight through the park's entrance. Maybe the trees and the grass would give him some inspiration... Nature did that, right? Maybe it would work... or maybe he could just get lost in the woods so he'd never have to worry about performing again.

The crunch of gravel went quiet as he walked off the laid track. Not that he was going anywhere- he was still followed the grey path, but the noise was just annoying him. He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the strange silver figure at the heart of the park's main attraction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: hey guys^^ back again... Yeah, when I said some of the chapters were different lengths... This was one of them- I just split it where it felt right and it ended up like this. Anyways I hope you enjoy it as always- any reviews would be awesome^^ that's all for now though, see you tommorow!**

The giant (strangely not disgusting) lake drew in both picnickers and dog walkers alike, but Hiccup was neither so he tended to just take the path around it. Still, now there was no people for him to avoid looking at (lest they have that dreaded, awkward moment of eye contact), he didn't have to fix his eyes on the floor like he normally did.

He half heartedly glanced up- not really looking. The park was pretty, he guessed. Thousands upon thousands of tiny blossom petals had fallen and were scattered across the grass and the path... But he couldn't really bring himself to care about it. In the dark cover of night, they were all just dull, white specks on the ground. He supposed they were meant to be a soft pink, but they were just blank to him. Besides, it wasn't like this didn't happen every year: flowers died, their petals fell and landed all over the floor. It was just a part of nature- nothing special about it.

Without really paying attention to what he was doing, his eyes swept over the lake- following an only half bothered thought that the giant puddle would probably be full of blossom petals too... He did a double take and froze into place, eyes bugging out of his head for a moment in shock.

A soft white aura was dancing effortlessly across the lake- gliding just above the surface of the impossibly still water; spinning, curving and looping its way around the lake again... and again... and again. Wait, was it skating? It was ice skating around the- definitely unfrozen- surface of the pre Autumn lake. Or was it above it? And what was it? Hiccup found himself walking closer to it, trying to figure out what he was seeing...

It was a boy- or, at least, the ghost of one.

Pearly white light highlighted the boy's shadows and features. The light fading curiously across his skin, making him nearly transparent in some places. The effect was one as if he was from a black and white movie where the black had been removed, leaving only wispy variations of white behind. But that was a poor description of the spectral figure he saw before him. It looked like a part of the moonlight that had captured in the lake's petal scattered mirror had been breathed into life.

What was this? Hiccup thought. The world seemed to be changing right before his eyes... It was beautiful. It wasn't quite as dark as before... and there was colour. The grass was taking on a viridescent hue- the petals touched with a soft pink. A tiny bit of colour was starting to reach his dull, monochrome world. Even the sky. He'd heard people say it was a deep, dark blue before now, but he'd only ever seen it as black. But now... he saw it. A deep, midnight blue that was reflected flawlessly in the moonlit lake- perfectly framing that soft, whitest of whites that was the ghost's translucent figure. There were millions of stars reflected around him like the sky had been scattered with glowing dust- and yet, the stars seemed dull next to shining spirit.

It was breathtaking- and the way he was dancing... He flowed across the surface like breath of wind- his figure slim and elegant like a picture perfect ballerina, and yet full of a freedom that was nothing like the tight, uniformed posture of a ballerina. There was presicion and form in his movement, yes, but it was done so effortlessly- casually, almost! He tried to fit it to any style of dance or skating he knew: waltz? It was too quick for that. Flamenco? No way- it wasn't nearly flamboyant enough for that. Tango? Don't be dumb, he thought, it was far too careless and cheerful to for such a serious dance. Calypso? Cha cha? Country? If he had to force a guess, he'd say it seemed vaguely ballroom- but that wasn't right either.

It was just so... free... Like he was inventing his own, breathtaking, new style of dance- one that took the best elements of existing dances and wove them seamlessly into his own. But it didn't even look like he knew what he was doing. To the spirit's mind, he was probably just dancing. Entirely unaware of the mastery his watcher saw in the performance. Heck, he didn't even know he had an audience; he was just skating for the fun of it.

Hiccup lost himself to the beautiful, skating dance. The spirals and turns... light arm movement that looked like they were guided by the wind... precise but easy footwork gliding flawlessly around, and around... He made it look so easy- flowing from each move to the next like a river... For the first time, in a long time... Hiccup started to think of how beautifully a piano would've accompanied the movements.

He could almost hear the tune right now- the perfect notes to work in seamless harmony with the fluid dance. Long, smooth notes that bespoke beauty and elegance... and then a soft, running melody would come in... slowly and gently... and then eventually it would go off to play by itself- light, carefree, and content.

Without even being aware of it, his fingers started tapping lightly on the bottom of his coat. Pressing the invisible keys he saw clearly in his mind. He didn't know how long he would've stood there, his mind creating the most beautiful score for the incredible scene before him, but everything came to an abrupt halt as he suddenly faced that moment he always dreaded when he was around other people.

That awkward second of eye contact.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors note: hey guys- super tired today so this is only a quick note because here we have the two meeting! (I am pretty new and entirely inexperienced with romance, so I'd appreciate if you could tell me how I do) anyway I hope you guys enjoy- please leave a review if you can and I'll be back tommorow with more^^**

He didn't know how he could even see those white, ghostly eyes from this distance, but they defintely saw him back. He stiffened. Oh shoot. He'd just been staring, gormlessly, at a guy figure skating for at least a good ten minutes. He cursed himself internally- how was he going to play this off without looking like a total creep?!

You stupid idiot! He thought. What do you think you are doing- going staring at people like that?! Aside from how completely creepy it is, it makes them talk to you, and then you'll have to talk back- and you know how you and talking goes. We do not need another awkward social situation! He scolded- reminding himself of his social hermit status. He avoided any and all people contact whenever he could- because him and other people just did not mix. He never knew what to say- he never knew what to do- and he always, without fail, ended up making a complete fool out of himself. He much preferred staying at home, where he could focus on his piano and not be judged for the awkward music geek he was.

Well, this was a new one, he thought. A ghost about to be added to the list of people who think he's a weirdo... Oh gods- that was a ghost! A ghost that had been staring at him and was probably coming right towards him and-.

"You can see me?" SHI-.. taki mushrooms- he's right there! Wow... Suddenly (thankfully) a random moment of awe took away his panic. Because as supernaturally amazing the ghost was far away; close up, he was even more incredible.

Now that he was close, he could see the boy clearly. A soft glow lit his every feature, and he found himself wondering what the supernatural light was made of... star dust? Moon beams? Some other, unknown, ethereal substance? This was insane... There is a literal ghost standing right in front of me, Hiccup thought... It was so weird. He could see the lake straight through him, but at the same time there was a definate body there.

No way could this be fake, he decided, the detail was way too extreme for that. He could even see each individual hair on his head- even the telltale glimpses of fabric fibres in his hoodie... and his eyes... They were like pure diamonds. He didn't know how, but this spirit's eyes were somehow more alive than most living people's he'd seen. They were literally shining- a hopeful joy making them glitter like miniture stars. They stared at him, intently- a slight smile lifting up the corners of his slack, transparent mouth like he couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him... He wondered what colour his eyes would've been when he was still alive. Why was he paying so much attention to his eyes? Why were his teeth so blindingly white? They're literally made of light, genius- they're going to be like that. That's probably also the reason why his hair's white. Was his hair naturally that windswept, or was that some kind of ghost thing? Why was even thinking about this?

Get over yourself! He thought. Yes, it's a ghost, but it's also a very real person just as judgemental as any living people you've come across- and it's obviously intelligent, because it just spoke. Wait, what?

It's words flashed back to him. 'You can see me?' Why was it so shocked about that? Well, he guessed being a ghost meant not that many people could see it- if any. Hold on- why was it exclusively him that could see him? This was the first ghost he'd come across, so he clearly wasn't born with some kind of special ability to see them. What was this, some kind of Guardian Angel thing? Was the guy's spirit in limbo or something? Did he need help 'passing on'? How the hell was he supposed to know?! He didn't know how this ghost gig worked!

The only thing he was fairly certain on was that (whatever he was) he meant no harm. He looked just like a regular guy- except that he was see through, made of shiny stuff and seemed to be floating.

"Y- y.. Yeah." He answered, hesitantly, deciding it wouldn't do any harm to give him an answer. He silently cursed his stuttering: this was why he hated talking to people. The boy didn't pick up on it, though- his eyes just widened as he jumped in excitement- turning a backflip in midair for no apparent reason.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. "I knew someone would see me! I just woke up and no one would talk to me- then it turns out I can go through them and they can't even see me! Then it turns out I can go through pretty much anything- and then it turns out I can fly! I saw the lake from up there," He pointed aimlessly at the sky. "And I just had to go skating!" He grinned, enthusiasm lighting up his eyes even more as he pranced around him in delight.

Hiccup was getting mildly dizzy trying to keep track of him, but he couldn't stop the boy's infectious grin drawing a smile onto his own lips. He was relatively new to this whole ghost thing too, huh? Hiccup noticed.

"I didn't even know I could ice skate, I could until I was doing it!" He laughed, exhilarated by the unexpected discovery. "Its mad!" He exclaimed, seeming to thoroughly love the strangeness of it all. Jeez, he just seemed to have so much vigour and love for life- or, well, 'unlife' he supposed. He seemed to be lighting up the night around him- and not just because of the glow that surrounded him. He just had that kind of aura about him. Hiccup found himself grinning the first genuine smile he'd felt in a long time.

"Soo.. where am I?" The spirit wondered, looking around at the park like he was searching for something familiar. "I don't really remember anything." He told him. And yet you still seem perfectly happy? Hiccup thought to himself. Forget supernatural ghost, he thought, this guy was an supernormal optimist.

"Outskirts of Berkess." He replied. "The black dragon park." The ghost tilted a quizzical head as he heard this.

"Black dragon?" He repeated, curiously. "Is there some kind of legend behind this place, or something?" He asked, suddenly looking like a small kid who'd been told they were walking in the land of the fairies.

"Not really." He answered. "It's just full of this rare, black variety of snapdragon flowers. Night Furies, they're called." He informed, gesturing them. "Something to do with the translation from Latin. It's kinda lame really." All that hype over using the word "dragon", and it turns out it was named after snapdragons. He wished there was some kind of legend behind this place, he thought. Folklore or not, it'd make it so much more interesting.

The spirit, far from looking disappointed, actually seemed mildly interested about the black flowers.

"Well it sounds awesome." He grinned, and Hiccup couldn't help almost snickering at the remark- it was just so dumb! He didn't know what it was about this guy. Just being around him was making him feel happier than he'd felt in years. But, his head was bursting with questions he was just dying to know the answer to- potentially offensive, or not. He decided to take the plunge.

"What are you, then? I mean, do you know why you're here? Do you need help with... 'Unfinished business', or whatnot?" He asked, hoping he hadn't crossed some sort of line. He didn't seem offended, though- just confused, like he hadn't really thought about it before.

"I have no idea." He said. "Just sorta woke up in the middle of a road, and then eventually round up here." He informed. Wait, so that was literally all he knew? Everything he remembered? Wow... Hiccup thought. That was awful. He'd feel sorry for him if he didn't seem so unbothered by it. He seemed too happy that someone was talking to him to care.

Well, if the ghost didn't know, he had no chance of finding out, he realised, reluctantly- deciding to shelve the questions until any more information came to light.

"What's your name?" Hm? He was shaken from his thoughts as the ghost asked him the chirpy, intrigued question. It was such a basic one- but one that he really hated.

Oh great, he thought. His name. Well, wasn't that always a fun, little conversation starter.

He hated his name. It constantly made him a laughing stock over the tiniest things. Although... looking at the spirit in front of him, he didn't seem to be the tactless type. He certainly didn't look like the typical, thoughtless bully jerks that lived in his neighbourhood. He normally answered this question with 'Henry', but he soon got found out when he forgot that was supposed to be his name. But would this guy be different? He didn't know why he should be. He'll probably just laugh and insult him like they always do... But something about him made him consider telling the truth. He seemed strangely trustworthy- and, if he really did have no memory, maybe he wouldn't be able to tell it was such a stupid name. Then again, he knew how to ice skate. But he'd only known that when he'd actually started skating. So maybe he'll remember how stupid that name is once he hears it.

He argued back and forth inside his head for a while, and eventually reached a decision. He was going to take a leap of faith.

"Hiccup." He told him, quietly.

He almost didn't dare to look up to see his ridicule, but somehow... he found himself getting drawn back to watch the spirit's response. He was blinking, brows furrowing slightly in confusion as though trying to decide whether he was joking or not- or, not so much that, but wondering why he wasn't joking about that.

"Your name's Hiccup?" He said, baffled.

"Mmhmm." Hiccup confirmed. The spirit didn't seem to know what to make of it- and Hiccup felt strangely happy about that (confusion beat outright laughing in his face any day).

It didn't take him long to make peace with the abnormal name and bounce back to his regular self.

"Right, so what you up to then, Hiccup?" He questioned, brightly. What was he up to? His heart sank into his shoes.

...Oh yeah. He'd almost forgotten about the concert.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors note: more again! I hope you're enjoying it^^ anyways this is where it starts to pick up a little bit^^ let me know how you imagine the music- I'm really curious about what you'll think so please review and let me know what you thought of it, please enjoy it as always and I'll see you tommorow for the next chapter^^**

He slumped down onto the ground- not caring that his trousers would probably get dirty from the damp grass- and buried his head in his hands.

Why did the world have to go and ruin the moment? He was perfectly happy forgetting about the stupid concert, and its stupid 'ten minute, self composed piece' requirement. But no, it just had to all come flooding back and make him throughly miserable again.

"What's wrong?" A slight, starlike glow shone through the gaps in his fingers, and he lowered them to see the spirit's head in front of his own- concern strangely clear in his see through, diamond eyes. He'd crouched in front of him to try and peer through his hands. The position seemed to ground him slightly, and somehow it almost felt like he was talking to a normal person... except that he hated talking to normal people (he hated other people even looking at him), but... he didn't hate this.

The ghost carried a strange lack of judgement about him. Like he really didn't care what he was seeing: the gangly limbs; the large, out of proportion nose; the crooked teeth and smile; and basically every other part of him that fulfilled the stereotype for lonely nerd (all he was short of was glasses). But this boy felt like he was really looking at him. Sure, people looked at him all the time, but they never felt like they were truly looking at him. Now, for the first time since his mother died, he felt like someone was finally seeing through the weak facade, and into creative genius he tried to be. Maybe he had only just met this person, but he already felt like this spirit understood him better than most people he'd grown up knowing. He certainly seemed to care a lot more than they did.

"It's this stupid concert." He began, past the point of caring that he was about to tell his life story to a near total stranger. "I'm meant to have created a ten minute piece for the finals- all the top talent scouts are going to be there- and I've got nothing. Every time I sit down at the piano, the keys just sound dead to me- nothing I play sounds any good- it's like... I've just lost the ability to create music." He muttered. That last part was a whisper. He finally admitted his deepest fear. What if he'd just lost his sense of music? What if he just couldn't play like he used to- ever? Without his mother, how could he ever find joy in the piano again? He managed to hold back his tears, he was too stubborn to let them fall, but their sorrowful shine had slipped into his eyes, he was sure.

He couldn't bring himself to meet the ghost's starlike eyes. He was just too ashamed, and embarrassed, to do anything more than stare at the ground, wishing for it to open up and swallow him, then it would bring an end to his misery.

"Nothing you play sounds any good..." The boy repeated, sullenly, mulling over the words. He almost sounded almost... empathetic? As though he understood exactly what he was feeling. But how could he? He wasn't a musician... Was he?

"Do you have a reason for you to play?" The ghost asked. Hiccup scowled, sightly. He'd just told him that!

"I told you- the concer-."

"No, not that." He interrupted. "A real reason. He said.

A real reason? Hiccup thought.

The question brought about some strangely deep thinking- forcing him to question what he did, and why he did it. He had to do some deep, interior digging. Why was he doing this? Why was he playing the piano? To prove he could do it? That was a proper reason. Because he enjoyed it? No, without his mother, that wasn't true anymore. So why was he doing it? Why... He searched himself for a long time... Why?... Why? Time passed, and, still, he came up with no answer.

That was it, wasn't it. He thought. He just didn't have a reason.

His playing had no real purpose- there wasn't any meaning behind it. No wonder everything he played turned out rubbish. He didn't really see the point in playing it. He had no reason- no motivation for it. He bowed his head, defeated.

"I don't know." He admitted, giving up. He really didn't know why he did it... So why should he even bother. Why waste his time? He might as well just give up the piano- throw the old instrument away, and make room for some other piece of furniture. He had no reason to play it, anymore. There wasn't any point in keeping it.

"Well, you need to find a new reason, then." The spirit's voice said, like the solution was simple (not easy, he noted: simple). "You just need a bit of inspiration." He told him, cheerfully, springing up.

Hiccup's eyes had followed him as he jumped up, only for them to fall down again. He was hoping for a solution. Not this answer. As much as he wanted it to help him, the advice was useless- it didn't help him in the slightest.

"Don't you think I haven't tried that?" He told him, hopelessly. "I've been looking for months now for any kind of inspiration." He said.

"Well that's where you're going wrong, then." Hiccup's head snapped up. Was he saying he knew where he was going wrong? Did he know how to fix it? He looked up at him- desperately seeking guidance. "You don't look for inspiration, you let it find you... You feel it." He said.

Hiccup noticed, then, the silvery, glowing instrument that had mysteriously appeared in his hand. It was one he recognised, easily.

A violin? He thought, looking up to meet those crystal white eyes. His cheerful smile had turned soft and warm, and suddenly he seemed every part the fantastical spirit that he was.

"Like this." He muttered, mesmerisingly. He closed his brilliant, shining eyes, and took a deep, gentle breath as he tilted his head to the heavens... and brought the bow up to rest quietly on the main part of instrument...

A seconds silence...

...and then he drew the long length of the bow across the strings.

A light, smooth note sailed across the air. Crystal clear, with that captivating, sonorous quality only the violin could create. Hiccup was entranced. If he'd thought the spirit was breathtaking when he was skating, then his playing of the violin was nothing short of pure magic.

It wasn't just a sequence of notes- a random blend of repetitive sounds hoping to grab the attention of the listener. It was an emotive, captivated story that pulled him in without even trying to. The ghost was writing him a tale of beauty- using his bow as the pen with which he wrote it, and the voice with which he was telling it. He couldn't even begin to explain it- the music spoke to him. Though no words were spoken, he heard them clear as day in the breathtakingly beautiful melody. It was like he was feeling the words. The impressions of them- their meanings.

Light, it told him. Light and hope... Dreams.. Follow them- they can become true. Stars and petals. Don't give up. You are greater than you know. Shine. Shine bright. Mirrored lake. Dusted sky. The world is more than you know. Dancing petals and twirling wind. The velvet of night, and the stars, and the moon. See it now. See it new. Dance with the stars. Moonshine on the lake. Dance with the stars.

He was helplessly bewitched by the beyond beautiful music. It held him captive like a siren's song, and it wasn't even trying. It was a curious sensation. The tug into the embrace of the music seemed to pull him into an open freedom.

It was awe inspiring... and it wasn't just the music. What he was seeing in front of him was just as stunning as the music dazzling his ears.

The boy spirit in front of him was dancing again. This time on the ground, kicking up swirls of petals as he twirling round and round- lost within the power of his own music. Eyes closed, lost in a different world that he was trying to share with him through his music. A pure, content smile shining with pure joy that radiated from his face- the grin not slipping for a single moment. He seemed to dance with the wind, twirling like he was one of the blossom petals caught up in its gentle breezes.

An entirely new universe seemed to have opened up before him, colour and light flooding into the world like he was seeing it with high definition. Constellations of infinite stars shining down from rich, blue sky. The trees, the grass and the blossom petals all dancing with the playful wind in the quiet stillness of night. The velvet of night, and the stars, and the moon. He remembered. This is what he was showing him. This moment, in all its true splendour. He was seeing the park, that he'd seen hundreds of times before, in an entirely different light. Not as a meaningless portrait of only black and white, but a beautiful, flowing world, glowing with colour and light.

The flawless notes seemed to lift him from his deep and utter despair- reminding him of the light of childhood, and the meaning of hope.

He didn't ever want it to end... and yet... When it did, nothing seemed to change.

It was as if the spirit had simply reached out and plucked the music from the earth's song; and, now he'd opened his ears to it, he could hear the thrum of the ground and the singing of the wind, with or without the violin... It wasn't going away. His world had been transformed, from a monochrome, lifeless desert, into an exotic land of astonishing colour.

He watched as the spirit who'd taken his hand, and led him into the light, lowered his bow. He didn't know what to say... But it didn't matter, because, shortly after he finished, the spirit's brilliant, crystal eyes opened... and the look in them, as they stared straight into his being... It stole his breath away- just as he'd been recovering it from the awe inspiring music. If the music had finally reached and unlocked his heart, then those bright, shining eyes were seeing straight through to it.

A soft smile slowly dissipated the moment, breaking up the mysterious trance those diamond eyes'd had on him. Hiccup felt like he had to take a moment to come back from whatever universe the music had taken him to. He tried again and again to come up with a word for the experience, but in the end he gave up. Nothing came close to describing that world changing melody.

The symphony that touched his soul.

He realised the spirit was staring at him- silently, but eagerly, awaiting his response. Hiccup's brain still had a long way to go before it caught up to the present, so naturally his mouth vomitted up the first, random thing it could think of.

"You play violin." He pointed out, stupidly- but, somehow, the spirit's laughter that followed removed any embarrassment he would've felt at the statement.

"No, I play music- the violin just goes along with it." He smirked. That brought Hiccup back down to earth. Oh, he thought he was clever, did he? He thought he had a sly tongue? He hadn't seen anything yet- two can play at that game, the pianist thought.

"Oh, so I suppose it wouldn't matter if I just swapped that away for some other instrument, then." He said, sarcastically. That aught to take the wind out of his sails. The spirit pursed his lips, like he was considering how that would work.

"Mm... gimme a few weeks, and I could make it work." He decided. Wait, what? Hiccup thought, trying to read his face. Was he being serious? Hold on, was he just kidding? Or not? That teasing smirk was really giving him nothing to go on. Was he messing with him, or wasn't he?!

"But, never mind me." He pointed out. "You're the one with the concert." He remembered.

Hiccup's stomach dropped. Oh schist, schtick, stack and shoot- he totally forgotten about that! (His parents might've forbidden him from cursing, but that didn't stop him inventing his own, similar, words).


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors note: panic chapter! With a bit of hope at the end^^ always fun to write simple antics such as flying over furniture XD it's a bit longer this time so I hope you enjoy it! ^^ please let me know what you think, it really does mean an awful lot to me- but without further ado I'll leave you with the chapter- see you tommorow!**

He turned and ran out of the park- legging it, full pelt, back towards the house. He tripped over his own feet at least five times on the way, and he was panting like he'd run a marathon, but he finally made it to his front door.

Eventually fumbling the stupidly uncooperative key into the lock, he slammed the door shut behind him, and leant against it as he frantically tried to catch his breath and read the nearest clock.

8:18.

The concert started at nine- and he had to get the 8:25 train to get there on time. This was really not good. Schiiist! He thought as turned round, hopping about as he threw his coat onto the floor and struggled to yank his shoes off.

He was still hopping about on one foot, when a glowing, white head shot through the door in front of him. He screamed, in the worst, girly way possible as he jumped halfway across the hall, fearful for his life. Eventually ending up in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Stupid ghost! He scared the life out of him! Then he turned bright red as he realised he'd just squealed like a six year old girl and fallen flat on his butt because of a stupid jumpscare. The spirit's very, very, loud laughter did absolutely nothing to improve his mood. Hiccup threw a shoe at him, and glared up at the trickster, furiously. He was not playing these games! The shoe just went straight through the ghost's face and hit the door, but it felt incredibly good to have the satisfaction of flinging something literally into his smug, laughing face.

"I am not in the mood right now!" He warned, panic rushing his feet up the stairs faster than they could cooperate. As he stumbled his way up, he yelled back down. "I'm gonna be late!" He panicked, sitting on his bed to pull off his second shoe- this one also taking a short flight across the room he'd tugged it so fast. He shook his jacket off one armand pinged off his old socks ready for newer, fresher ones. It was around about this time, he realised he had an audience.

"Get out! I'm getting changed!" He shouted- his face going from peach to tomato in the space of that one sentence. The ghost either blanched or blushed- he had no idea which- as it finally sank in through its silver hand what was going on. He turned tail and dashed away from the door long before Hiccup reached it and slammed it shut- locking it for good measure (although it would be literally no help in keeping the ghost out). Then, he finally turned his attention to the trim, black suit laid out on on his bed.

A few minutes of flailing about, losing a fight with unyielding clothing, later, he burst from his bedroom- black, formal jacket hanging off one arm; a long, misshapen strip flying like a loose banner round his neck; and his shirt flapping over the top of his trousers, one end of which was still trapped under his heel as he fought to haul them up.

He ignored the snickering spirit in the living room as he dashed around wildly- ransacking the house to find the front door keys, only to remember he'd left them in his coat pocket.

"Bringing back the bow tie, I see?" The voice from the corner smirked. He glanced down at the oddly shaped strip barely hanging onto his neck. Darn it- he was right! It looked stupid- what was he thinking?! He rushed back up into the bedroom, going on a compete rampage as he pulled apart his various dresser draws in search of a normal tie. He found one. Yes! He thought, victoriously, throwing it round his neck like a scarf. He could tie it on the train, he didn't have the time-.

"You know, the bow tie was fine." His personal poltergeist pointed out. WHAT?! He thought, tackling the armchair and going flying into the sofa... Ow. Just forget it- forget it! Hurry up- you're gonna be late! You're gonna be late! He repeated over and over in a frenzy, finally shrugging his jacket over his other shoulder as he simultaneously reached for his shoes.

"Don't you need anything?" The voice wondered behind him. He shoved his foot into one of the fancy, freshly polished shoes and fiddling about with the laces as he cursed whoever invented them into a fiery pit of worms.

"I told you- I couldn't think of any music- so I'll just have to-!"

"Train fare? Bus fare?" The voice suggested. Hiccup slapped himself, mentally. Of course! Idiot! He hopped back into the living room- laces trailing from his one, shoed foot. Snatching the black, leather pouch from the coffee table, he pocketed it before hurrying back to his other shoe. After a few seconds warring against the laces, and tangling his fingers in a knotty, black spiderweb, gave up and shoved the useless strings down the sides of his shoes. He leapt out of his house, only stopping to lock the door (which suddenly proved frustratingly difficult when he wanted it be done quickly), then took off down the street.

By the time he reached the station, his train was already there. But he'd made it to the platform on time. Thank the gods! He thought, before instantly cursing them a thousand times over as his now free laces finally tripped him up, and sent one of his shoes flying across the platform- almost onto the train track. He hurriedly hopped over to it-fearful that the train would start any second-... and stumbled, at long last, onto the train.

He had more than a few people giving him some funny looks as he struggled to catch his breath. It took him a moment to realise why they were staring. His shirt was untucked, his tie was strung round his neck like a noose, his hair was probably a mess and he was holding his right shoe in his left hand... Oh great. He looked like a mess, didn't he. He self consciously patted down his hair in a useless attempt to tame it, as his ducked his head down- hiding from their scathing gazes as he searched for a seat. He managed to find a relatively quiet carriage- and sat himself down in an empty seat. Thankfully, no one was sat next to, or opposite, him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and sagged heavily into his seat. Thank goodness he was finally here.

"Hey, you made it!"

WHAT THE HOLY-?!

He flipped out as a silvery white head materialised through the wall next to him- earning him the attraction of some more odd stares from the other people in the carriage. He turned bright red, as his pet ghost proceeded to laugh his head off beside him- Hiccup unable to anything more than glare, without looking even more insane.

He busied himself with making himself look more presentable- starting with his shoes to give him an excuse to hide his head. Now he had a half an hour journey to wait, he actually managed to work his fingers through the motions of tying the bows. Finally feeling brave enough to show his face again- he moved on to tying his tie. A real one- not one of those clip ons that were so much easier, but his dad wouldn't let him get. It took him five tries to get it right- and even then it still looked a little squiffy to his eyes. He pulled down the collar he didn't even realise had been sticking up the whole time, and started trying to managed to sort his hair as best he could.

He managed to sort it into a slightly less windblown mess, but it was still scruffy. There was only so much he could do with his hair though- this was as good as he was going to get it. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that this was going to be how he showed up, as settled down for the rest of the journey... Until the spirit pointed out his shirt was still untucked.

Then, he was all set. Nothing left to do, but to sit and dread his upcoming doom.

There was no point trying to write anything now- and, even if there was, he wouldn't be able to write anything with the constant rattling of the train anyway. He was just going to have to do this on the spot. Improvise. Literally pull something out of thin air at the last moment... and quite honestly... It petrified him. It made him want to get off at the next station, and take the fastest train home. He wasn't just nervous- he was absolutely terrified.

He looked at the spirit taking the seat opposite him. He was enjoying watching the world outside roll by, like he was already thinking of a way to turn it into another effortless masterpiece, just like he'd done back at the lake. He couldn't do that. He wasn't an improviser. Sure, he could come up with something relatively quickly, if the will was with him, but in the last few seconds?! And something that was meant to be of a national competition winning standard? It was impossible. He just couldn't do it. He wasn't like that ridiculously amazing ghost. He didn't know how he did it! How could he just make something so incredible with no practice?! He hadn't even created a decent piece of music in years! He hadn't even played all that well for years! Oh gods... What was he going to do?... He was doomed.

The spirit must've noticed his hands shaking.

"You alright?" He queried, concern touching his voice. Hiccup didn't trust himself to speak. He felt a little queasy. Every time he thought about the performance... Just the thought that he had to do the entire thing on the spot, with no preparation!.. It was too much. He couldn't do it. He was better off heading home. But he couldn't just give up on everything now.

He didn't really feel anything, but he watched as a silvery white hand lay on top of his own... and strangely, he didn't flinch away from the contact. A suprisingly gentle voice grabbed his attention, as he reluctantly met the spirit's eyes.

"Hey." He heard him mutter. "You're gonna be great." He smiled, reassuringly- not a trace of doubt in his words.

"That's easy for you to say." He muttered- quietly, so the other passengers couldn't hear. "You're amazing- you can make the most incredible music from thin air. You don't even have to try." He murmured. The ghost blinked in surprise, and stared at him, astonished. "But, I'm not like that." He continued. "I'm not like you. I can't miraculously pull a masterpiece out of nowhere. I need time. I need practise. I need-."

"No, you don't."

He froze, astonished, as she moon white spirit broke in. What? How did he know? He'd never even seen him play before! He searched his translucent face for the reason. How he could be so confident about that? What did he see in a loser like him?

"I saw you when you were listening to my music. You heard it like a song, and you read it like a book- but, not only that, you felt it! Anyone who sees that much in a simple song can more than create something like that themselves. They just need to be a half decent musician- and you've made it to the finals of a national competition! That's incredible, Hiccup. I don't know why you don't believe in yourself more." He told him, unwavering confidence and belief radiating from him steady gaze. Hiccup was stunned. He really thought he was worth that much? He really... believed in him? He found himself beginning to wonder if... maybe he was putting himself down. Was he really better than he told himself he was? But, what did he do about the performance?

Forget self belief, there were hundreds of people turning up tonight, expecting him to play a masterpiece, and he had nothing! What should he do? He was lost. He just didn't know how to do this.

"But what do I do?" He muttered, helplessly- desperately seeking the spirit's guidance, as buried his head. He was he improv master here! How did he do it?! He just couldn't-... He wasn't good enough.

"You don't need to know what notes you're gonna play." The spirit's voice told him, calmly. "You don't even need to know what kind of music you're going to play. You just need to find a reason to play... Something, or someone, worth playing for." The ghost muttered, gazing down as he himself in his thoughts for a moment. "Once you find that, just let your heart lead. The rest of you will know what to do."

Hiccup let his words sink in... He chewed on his lip as he mulled over what he'd just said. It was a more than little bit cryptic- and, yes, kinda poetic- but music, especially the kind they were talking about, was a very difficult thing to describe. It was different for every person who played it. Not one musician ever played the exact same way- and your own unique style was something you had to discover for yourself- but Hiccup had already near enough found that. His problem was his muse- or his lack of one.

A reason to play...

The pianist thought as he looked inside himself again. What was his reason for playing?... 'Someone or something' he'd said... Who, or what, inspired him?... He considered it, but an answer came surprisingly quick.

His mother, he thought.

She always the first person who came into mind whenever he sat at the piano's ebony/ivory keys. She always seem to be near him whenever he was sat at that stool; and he definitely wanted to make her proud, it shouldn't be hard for him to play for her. A lament? He thought, ideas for the piece starting to slowly turn over in his head. Perhaps a memory of the old times... or a bittersweet commemoration of her. His mind set with determination. He might not know exactly what he was going to play- he wouldn't know that until his fingers touched the keys, but now he had a starting point. He had a place to begin. He'd found his reason to play. He had the centre of his piece. There was a chance- however small- that he might just be able to pull this off.

He looked up and met the glowing, silvery eyes of the white ghost in front of him.

"Thank you." He told him, sincerely- and he really meant it. He didn't often feel very strongly about many things, but he was truly was grateful to the spirit. The ghost accepted his thanks with a simple nod of his head- but the gentle glow in his eyes, and the soft spread of the starlight smile that graced his lips, told him something else: you always could've done it, Hiccup. I just helped you realise it.

The pianist smiled softly to himself at the silent message. The spirit's belief felt like it was starting to rub off on him, and he began to hope that maybe- just maybe... He might be able to do this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors note: hey guys ^^ hope you're doing well! I'm really glad you seem to be enjoying the story so far so I won't keep you from it for long- I just wanted to say thanks for reading the story and say an especially big thanks to everyone who's reviewed (thanks so much guys) that's all for now^^ please leave a review and I hope you enjoy the update! See you all tommorow**

By the time they'd reached their stop, Hiccup's fear had settled slightly, but the butterflies he seemed to have swallowed only became more agitated.

He was so jittery, his stutter became so pronounced every word sounded like he was shivering- to the point that he gave up talking altogether. He mentioned it to the spirit, but all he ever said was that there was nothing he could do about 'pre show nerves'. He really wished he could do something about it. It was horrible. He just felt so twitchy! He couldn't play the piano in this state! He'd hit a wrong note- and in a high callibre competition such as this, you might as well be signing your own death warrant. Mistakes weren't acceptable this late in the competition. The judges weren't even looking at separating the good from the great- they were looking at seperating the great from the phenomenal.

He just couldn't stop thinking about how he wasn't good enough for this- and sitting in a silent waiting room, with all the other competitors, wasn't making things any easier. They all looked so much more professional than he did! Their hair wasn't a half tamed mess- their ties were all perfectly straight. Some of them even had cuff links and fancy tails at the back of their jackets... and he could hear the music from the current performer on stage. He was brilliant- the piece he had created was a real work of creative artistry. He couldn't compete with that! He didn't even belong here! These people were on an entirely different level to him! If he hadn't just heard the spirit's song at the edge of the lake, he'd say it was the best music he'd ever heard live.

Speaking of the invisible ghost, he seemed to be the only one who wasn't impressed by the music. He was hovering by the other side of the room, muttering to himself.

"No meaning." He grumbled- dissatisfaction and disappointment written across his face. "No heart in it." But, to Hiccup, the music was flawless. A hundred times better than anything he could hope to create- let alone at the last minute...

He couldn't listen to this.

He got up. The other competitors barely even glancing as he walked off towards the bathroom- not one of them bothering to ask where he was going.

He pushed open the heavy, self closing door, and buried his face into his hands. What was he doing here? What was he even thinking?! He couldn't compete with the likes of these people! This was just ridiculous! He should go home now, before he makes a fool of himself. He didn't even know what he was going to play!

"You've already been to the bathroom." The spirit's steady voice pointed out behind him. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that he was there. A part of him had known the star like ghost would follow him... maybe that was the whole reason he'd come.

"I just... needed a minute." He muttered, dropping his hands down to let them hang helplessly by his sides.

"What am I even doing here?" He said, out loud. "I can't compete with this!" The ghosts eyes narrowed instantly, disappointed in him for even thinking that.

"Hiccup, anything you can play will be a thousand times better than this garbage I've heard tonight." He scowled, telling him off him for being so self depreciating. Hiccup felt a slight burn from shame at his scolding, but he still couldn't help it.

"But what am I gonna do?" He stressed. No matter how many times he seemed to ask the question he still felt lost. The spirit opened his mouth to remind them of their game plan.

"No, not the piece- its not just that- I just-..." He hesitated. He'd never admitted this to anyone before. He kept telling himself it was just him being weak- he just had to man up! But, still, he couldn't deny it. Eight years of performing and things still hadn't changed.

He was a heavy sufferer of stage fright.

"I never really liked playing in front of a huge audience." He confessed. "One of the first times I did it, I froze... Everybody was staring- trying to figure out what was going on. They started whispering and talking- it was horrible! I just started playing- anything to get them to stop- but I messed up the whole thing. My hands just kept shaking and pressing the wrong keys. They started laughing at me. They were laughing at me, and I started crying- onstage in front of everyone. I couldn't stand it. I just can't let it-... I can't let that happen again..." He wept, voice breaking up into restrained sobs as he dug up the horrible, dreaded repressed memory.

Their hideous taunting laughs echoing in his mind- the thousands of burning eyes scorching into his skin. The discordant ringing from the piano shouting to him about yet another big mistake.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to hide under his bangs. He didn't want the spirit to see him like this. His eyes so helplessly and pathetically red. He tensed up in an effort to hold back the tremors that tried to shake his body. But worse than that was how he was trying to keep his tears overflowing, and leaking out onto his face. Why did he have to be so useless? Why did he have to be so weak?... He was pathetic. His name even said so. 'Mistake' was what Hiccup meant... A mistake. That's all he was... Nothing but a stupid mistake.

He sensed, rather than felt, the spirit move to stand in front of him. Shamed, fragile eyes opened up to find himself looking at the world through a semitransparent blur. It took him a moment to figure out what was happening... But then he saw the soft glow of the spirit's arms disappear around his shoulder... and realised that he was stood in the spirit's embrace. His head laying in the middle of his moonlit chest, untouchable arms doing what they could to press comfortingly into his back. He couldn't really feel the ghost's touch in the embrace... But he could somehow feel the heavy drape of his caring presence surrounding him. He could almost feel the invisible weight of the starry arms holding him. Shielding him. Protecting him from the world, and all of its horrors... It was exactly what his mother used to do when he'd have a nightmare.

She'd hold him close, and make him feel safe. In her arms, nothing could touch him. She'd just sit there, with him, and whisper gentle comforts into his ear, until everything was all better again. Then she'd stay with him, for hours on end, until he dropped off again... and all the night terrors had gone. He felt like a lost little boy again. Trapped in the nightmare that was life- feeling all alone, like he had no one in the world to care about him.

He wasn't normally a touchy feely person. He didn't do hugs. His mother was that only person he let get close to him like this... But stood there, in the spirit's arms- his phantom embrace chasing away the terrors of reality... He just didn't want to pull away. He wanted to stay there, forever, and never have to face the world again. He was aware that he'd hit a new low: an emotional wreck leaning on the spirit of a dead boy for comfort... and he'd only just met the guy just over an hour ago. That was practically rock bottom. But at the same time, he really needed this moment. He just needed to be held, and just.. understood.

The starlight spirit didn't judge him in any way, shape or form. He didn't expect anything from him, and yet still found a way to push him towards his limits. He listened to him unlike anyone else did. He'd helped him more in sixty minutes than all the rest of his so called 'friends' had in years... and he was so, unbelievably, grateful for that. He was so grateful that he was here for him- just being here... he wouldn't have wanted anyone else stood by his side right now. His guardian angel. His spirit. Protecting him from the darkness of the world.

"You know what I think?" The spirit muttered, his voice soft and low- almost a gentle hush. "I think that you are amazing, Hiccup. And you've been left alone too long if you don't believe that." The presence of the arms holding him slipped away slightly, and looked up to see his silver hands on his shoulders- unwavering support and belief in his gleaming, crystal eyes.

"So here's what we're going to do." He told him. We? Hiccup thought, and his heart seemed to stumble in his chest. He said 'we' like he wasn't on his own anymore... Like 'we' like 'the two of them'. Like he wasn't going to leave his side. He was going to be there the whole time for him... 'We' like 'me and him'.

"We're going to go out onto that stage together, and were going to play the best piece of music they have ever heard. Together. Forget the rest of them- forget the judges, and the audience... It's just the two of us. That's all you have to worry about." He promised, breathtaking diamond eyes seeing straight through to every last broken part of him, and mending them all with their silvery light. "You don't have to be afraid, Hiccup. I'm going to be right there, next to you... Every. Last. Step." He finished.

Hiccup couldn't have spoken then if he'd tried. Those words had just taken his breath away... How had he done it? He'd somehow known exactly what to say- those words... they were everything he'd always wanted to hear, and more. He felt like a sea of emotion had flooded his heart- which was odd, because he could also feel it thumping hard against chest.

His voice far from being in any usable state, he just nodded in response. He found himself walking back into the waiting room in a daze, as he battled with his disbelief... Had that really just happened? He slipped a glance at the ghost beside him and saw nothing but wholehearted confidence in his eyes... He really did believe in him... without a shade of a doubt- the spirit genuinely believed he could do this.

He still had no idea if he could create a a masterpiece, but now, at least, he was confident he could get through it... With that incredible spirit at his side, he was no longer afraid of anything. He could do this!

"Mr Hiccup Haddock?"

The voice of the smartly dressed show organiser, searching for the next competitor, shot him down from the clouds.


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors note: back again^^ hope you're enjoying it!... Erm... I've run out of things to say XD so I'll just let you get on to reading the chapter^^ please let me know what you think (I love hearing your thoughts^^) and I'll see you tommorow! Enjoy!**

His stomach fell into a bottomless pit and fear starting to knaw it's way back up through it. He lifted a shy hand to signify it was him she was looking for. If he wasn't so worried about what he was about to do, he might've been embarrassed by the snickers that ran through the room at his dumb name that he hated so much.

The woman spotted his barely raised hand and, after a quick 'this way', she led him up into the stage wings, where he could see the entire huge expanse of the massive, open stage. It was empty except for the single grand piano sat dead at its centre, and the smartly dressed announcer who was rambling on about something- probably something about his performances in previous stages of the tournament, he honestly wasn't paying attention to any of it. He was too busy shaking in his shoes as he imagined what lay on the other side of those curtains. He was trying not to think about how the words 'full house' meant that the venue's four thousand seat capacity had been filled, and that was exactly how many people were sat ready to stare at, scorn and judge him. Expecting a masterpiece of pure perfection, when he wasn't sure he could even move right now.

He saw the announcer gesture off expansively towards him as he walked off towards the far curtains. Hiccup watched him wander off backstage, wishing more than anything that he could follow him.

"That's your cue." The stage organiser informed him...

He froze.

Move, he told himself... Just move...

No... He couldn't do it- he couldn't do this! His legs turned to jelly. No...

Then, through his emotional turmoil, he felt the presence of a ghostly hand pass over his own... and suddenly found that he could move again.

He took a long, deep, shaky breath and ascended the steps onto the stage. Without stopping, he walked on out, past the safety of the curtains, and under the burning glare of the stage lights. Thank goodness for those blinding lights. If it weren't for them he'd have no choice but to face the terrifying audience, but they covered his vision just enough that he could get away with ignoring them as long as he kept his eyes on the piano.

He didn't dare even glance out of the corners of his eyes. He couldn't see the audience, but even just their weighty hollow presence to his left was enough to terrify him. He could feel the pressure of their expectant gaze burning into him the whole way- following him as he crossed the stage to the piano. He was so scared he wanted to turn around, run away and never come back. But he didn't slow down, and didn't stop. If he did- or if he spared even the tiniest glance to his left, he knew he'd just freeze with terror... and he didn't even want to think about what'd happen then.

The massive, open stage left him horribly exposed- the instinct to flee becoming more and more urgent the further he walked. The piano seemed an eternity away. The only thing that kept him going was the presense of a silver white hand drifting over his own. He drew all the strength he could from that touch... and, with the ghost at his side... he successfully made it to the piano.

He sat down on the stool- conscious of how lacking in grace the movement was. He probably looked so stupid. He wasn't supposed to be here. Even now, a little voice nagged at the back of his head. Telling him he wasn't good enough. Telling him he didn't belong. He stared sullenly down at instrument before him. The ebony black and ivory white keys suddenly felt incredibly daunting. He knew musicians were supposed to work with their instruments, but the piano never seemed to want to work with him. His 'relationship' with it, if you could call it that, was awkward and strained. After all that stress and panicking- now faced with the keys, he suddenly found himself panicking even more.

He didn't know what to do.

His mind was filled with an awful, dreaded blank- all the while, whispers of voices started to rise up in the back of his mind. Hideous laughter; every bullying comment that had ever scorned him for his choice to play this instrument; his father's disappointed words and heavy, disapproving scowl. He didn't know what to do. He was almost shaking. What did he do?! He looked up, helplessly- desperately seeking out his glowing Angel... and the whispering voices seemed to chase away... as the image of the shimmering spirit gave solice to his turmoiling mind.

His soft silver glow, under the artificial stage lights of the giant hall, had turned him pure gold. He had his shining violin resting on his neck in readiness to play, but his bow hand rested calmly at his side. Looking straight at him, as he waited, patiently, for his signal. He nodded, reassuringly. When you are ready, he could almost hear him saying.

Hiccup was stunned for a moment, when he noticed the brilliant, golden instrument resting in his hand. They really were doing this together... He truly was here for him... He wasn't alone.

He let the thought give him strength, as he looked down once more- placing his finger up upon the keys, as he searched for the notes to play... But the sounds of the music seemed to have escaped his thoughts. The notes and chords seemed to have just flown out of his mind, and he was left snatching at vague ideas. He had a few hints of what he wanted to produce flying about through his mind, but he just couldn't concentrate! He didn't know where to start!

The pressure from the audience was too much- the silence from the instrument was suffocating. Their terrible judgement was growing- and he knew what came next. Those terrible mutterings were about to start spreading through the hall... No. Not again. He couldn't let this happen again! What did he do? What did he do?!

The voice of his salvation answered his maelstrom of terror.

"Close your eyes..." The boy murmured, the words almost effortlessly pulling him into a trance.

He didn't even think about what he was doing. He surrendered his faith entirely onto the spirit. Putting his trust in him that he would never lead him astray.

He closed his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors note: hey guys! Here's the moment you've been waiting for^^ I hope you enjoy it! (This was originally split in half but then I realised it was so much better with the full thing) but like I already said- hope you like it- ooh, and please let me know what you thought of it! (Seriously reviews really really do mean an awful lot to me) but I think that's everything I have to say here- here you go! See you tommorow everyone!^^**

Everything shut off. It was as though the world had closed with his eyes- shut up shop, and disappeared. But as the real world had vanished... another one had opened. One in which there was no panic. No fear.

No judgement. No monotone keys. No harsh lights. No audience... Nothing but a gentle silence... and the possibility of music.

He was no longer afraid of the performance- of the audience awaiting his show- he couldn't even tell they were there anymore. A part of him told him he was still in that exact same hall as before. But without the ability to see it in front of him... it just didn't terrify him anymore. He was surrounded by a new, empty world. A blank canvas... He could be anywhere he wanted. He could be back beside that lake. He was free to create whatever he wished here in the silence... But what to play?... The spirit's words came back to him.

"You don't need to know what you're playing... just what you're playing for."

...Mom.

He thought... And he reached out through the inky darkness... To press down on the invisible keys.

A soft, sad chord sounded across the air... It was just how he'd pictured it. He knew exactly what it was going to sound like. He knew the keys of the piano off by heart. He only needed to feel what sound he wanted to create, and his fingers guided themselves to the correct keys.

He let his hands drift... and he found himself playing a melody. It was a song filled with such gentle and incredible beauty... and yet, somehow... it sounded so sad. He remembered her- his brilliant mother... everything that she'd ever done everything for him... The way that she'd always been there for him... She'd been his world... She'd been his everything. When she was around, the world had been alive and bursting with colour.

He filled the music with all the joys and happiness that their moments together had bestowed upon him... and his utter, complete sadness as he knew he was never to experience these things ever again... She was gone... Never again would he hear her voice, or see her face. He was never to feel her touch ever again... His mother... His dead, cold mother...

His hands were slowly weighing down with lead. Tears started to prick in his eyes... Sh- she was dead... She'd left him all alone... Why did she have to leave? Why? Why did you have to go?... Mommy?...

Pure, inconsolable despair reigned over his music now. A sadness so pure- a pain so complete- a longing so desperate... The keys fell like rainfall... and he started to lose himself to his emotions. A slight tremor ran through his fingers, almost making them hit a wrong key. A lone, silent tear fell silently down the side of his face... Why did you leave me? I miss you... Mom...

Then he heard it... Like a gentle caress...

It reached him just before his music could suffer from his agony...

A long, smooth, gentle note that could only have come from a violin.

It reached out towards him, like it was attempting to rub away his tears- hold his hand and give him whatever comfort it could in the darkness that plagued his soul.

He carried on playing his lament, holding on the violin's clear notes like it was the only thing keeping him above water. The only that was stopping him from falling into his despair.

He took all his grief, all his regret- his loneliness, his pain- everything... and poured it all into the song. The entirety of his broken, weeping heart bleeding out its sorrows and its shadows into the melody. A heart wrenching sound of loss from a pained soul who was crying out for a loved one. He was nearly weeping openly from the sorrow threatening to overwhelm him- the endless longing for his mom, and the destroying, irrefutable truth that she was never coming back- but so far that lone, single tear was the only one to fall.

And throughout every note- every heartbreak- every agony he suffered through... the violin staying with him, the whole time.

Sympathetic... Patient... Understanding. A reassuring lifeline in the ocean of darkness that surrounded him... And slowly but surely... It started to lift him from the shadows.

The music slowly took on a more hesitant, uncertain tone. Holding on to the lament of his grief... but slowly starting to loosen its grip on it. Hiccup felt himself almost beginning to feel... acceptance? Like he had cried out all he could, and could simply cry no more. A part of him wanted to desperately hold on to that sadness, keep tight hold of her memory and never ever let her go... But, somehow... the more the violin played... its gentle reassurances... it's little reminders of hope... It seemed to slowly lighten the colourless darkness that had become of his life, until, eventually, no matter how hard he tried... he just couldn't seem to hold on to his sorrow.

The music had all but slowed to a halt, as he started to realise that... it was alright. Yes, she was gone- and she wasn't going to come back- but, holding on to his grief? Lingering over her absence? That wasn't what she would've wanted. She'd want him to carry on with his life. She'd want him to be happy... But without her... what did he do? The violin had trailed away long ago. It seemed to be holding its breath, with the whole hall... as it waited to see what he was going to do next. What now? What would he choose?...

A single uncertain note repeated itself... once... twice... and the song went silent.

He just couldn't hold on anymore. He loved his mother, and he would never forget her as long as he lived... but it was time to move on now... To look forwards to the future... and see the light again...

He let her go.

A deep silence reigned over the hall... expectant... waiting... But the pianist felt none of it. He just sat there. His mind was empty, his heart wiped clean. The shadows and nightmares of the past had left him... and he found himself left wondering... What do I do now? He'd been playing for his mother, but he'd moved on from that now. What came next? He'd stepped away from the past, but what was the next move towards the future? What did he do with himself now? What did he play now?...

Who did he play for...?

The question hovered throughout his mind... And then his fingers started moving on their own, without him telling them too. Working themselves into a seamless melody. A tune of beauty and elegance that they'd been longing to play for while... Ever since they first drummed it out on the front of his coat pocket.

He let the light tune slowly turn across the air, growing into a gentle, flowing dance... he let a deep, reassuring baseline support it- a comforting sound of settling and familiarity. The two played apart from each other, until, eventually... they met. The relaxed bass finding the light, dancing melody. The two curiously circling each other... Then, they started to revolve around each other... and the dance of the beautiful, free flowing melody started transforming the low, steady bass into something new. It lifting it up towards the lighter, more joy filled keys- and filled it with life.

The two pieces merged into one. Coming together into a single, joyous song. One being. One tune. One that sharing in its joy and happiness.

... And then he heard it, just as he expected to...

The beautiful violin, sliding in to join seamlessly with the piano's melody. Playing, with him, a symphony of glowing happiness, and shining emotion. The piano's lightly bouncing keys working in perfect harmony with the dancing bow of the violin. The instrument's melodies twirling around each other like blossom petals caught up in a breeze. The graceful, light footed notes of the violin dancing with the vibrant grandeur of the piano. And yet, even as they danced, the instruments sang.

A duet of joy. Of happiness...Of colour. They felt like they were flying- their melodies dancing off high into the clouds. Pure, unstoppable joy shining from their hearts, as nimble fingers danced with the shining, golden bow. He could hardly distinguish his own part of the song- it blended so well with the violin's own. They'd become one. The violin and the piano. The music of the pianist's heart joining the spirit's in joyous song.

He'd never felt so alive! His heart was twirling out of his chest, beating out an entirely different rhythm to the one he was used to. It was beating to match the rhythm of that magical, enchanting violin. It was beating for-...

The music suddenly softened from its euphoria, the feeling in the air suddenly calming, and he heard the violin's melody settle into a gentle, content tune... His thoughts and emotions mulled around his head, turning over through the music... Was he really...?

His fingers moved thoughtfully over the keys, as he searched through his emotions- coming across one he couldn't quite bring a name to... It was the one he felt whenever he thought about the golden spirit, and he was both terrified and curious as to what it was called. He pondered over his thoughts, fingers running over a gentle, searching tune...

Then, he heard words, as clearly as though they'd been spoken. A single question, felt through the spirit's music.

" _What's on your mind?_ " The violin said, curiously- tugging softly at his conscious for an answer. The words reaching straight through his heart, in that curious way only music truly could- and he let the piano keys play his response.

" _You said you need a reason to play_..." He answered, the words translating seamlessly into music- and he knew that, somehow, the spirit would hear the message in the same way he did: resonating, through the notes, with his heart. "...Who are you playing for?" He wondered, his fingers starting to slow and bring the piece up to a close, as he mustered his courage to send a final message in the last few notes.

There was a slight pause that seemed to hold on to forever. The thought of what he was about to play next terrified and thrilled him, with a unique kind of curious terror.

He steadied his hands.

" _Because I think-"_

 _"I'm playing for you."_


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors note: They both found inspiration in each other^^ here's today's update! Hope you like it^^ please leave a review- and I'll see you tomorrow^^ (super tired right now- I can't think of anything else to say XD)**

They finished together. The final few notes of beautiful violin ending with a gentle flourish of piano keys.

Hiccup's eyes slowly opened... and he stared, breath taken away, at the golden ghost. A brilliant, beaming smile shone on his face like his sparkling eyes, hand still holding the bow to the strings as he panted heavily in the echoes of their song. Hiccup didn't even realise he was panting too, but his chest was filled with far too many emotions for it to matter.

His eyes locked with ghost's, indescribable messages flying back and forth between them. A thousand words said. A thousand words heard. Not a single one of them seemed to really sink in. It was the emotions that did. That terrifying, unnamed feeling ruling over them all. Powerful, intense... Magical.

Did he really just say-? A tumultuous roar shook the hall, jolting Hiccup from the moment. What was going-? He turned- only then remembering the four thousand people sat watching him- or, well, they _were_ sat, but they weren't seated anymore. Every single one of them... was standing. Infinite blurs of movement filling the crowd, as millions of claps rolled together into a single, thunderous sound. It took a while for Hiccup to realise what was going on. What was happening?

A standing ovation.

The entire audience had left their seats to show their appreciation and enthusiasm for the song he'd just played. Cheers and whistles permeated the crowd, as everyone tried to convey their how they'd been moved to the performer- wonder and amazement in their wide, awestruck eyes.

Hiccup just stood there, numbly, in the middle of the stage... unable to believe that this was happening. There must be some mistake, he thought. This couldn't be for him. He turned towards the only person who's reaction he really cared about. The ghost's eyes were shining with pride, his smile (somehow even broader than before) was tight with emotion and he seemed to be glowing even brighter. Hiccup stood there, amazed... as the spirit brought together his hands, to join in the deafening applause praising his music. But, no, it wasn't right. Hiccup thought. The golden spirit deserved that applause as much as he did- he would've been nothing without him.

But the audience couldn't hear the violin. They hadn't seen or heard the ghost's part in it, and yet they were still standing and applauding him all the same.

A wave of emotion rose up his chest and his eyes suddenly grew damp. He found himself meeting the spirit's shining eyes. 'Take it in, Hiccup.' They told him. 'It's all for you.' He took a deep breath and turned back towards the audience. The crowd suddenly blurred slightly, eyes filling with liquid shine, as he bowed down low in front of them. Just like he'd been taught to do ever since his very first performance.

He started walked back towards the curtains. It was a shame, really, he thought. They never really heard the full magic of the song. They did all that and they'd only heard half the duet. But the full song was something that was only reserved for him and the golden spirit- something that only the two of them shared.

He finally stepped off the stage, (for once, not in a terrible hurry to do so). The audience's cheers and approval following him as he headed down the stairs and backstage, feeling more incredible than he would've ever thought possible just fifteen minutes ago.

He didn't notice the ghost, normally stuck to his side like his shadow, pause suddenly behind him.

The spirit's smile faded for a second.

It didn't last but a moment before he headed off after Hiccup... but something seemed to have changed.

"Hey Hiccup? Can I talk to you outside?" He asked. His smile was just as bright as though it had never wavered, and Hiccup remained oblivious that anything had ever happened. He was too busy soaring on the euphoria of the performance to even wonder about the strange question. Lost in the experience of that musical magic that he'd never felt before- and that standing ovation... the appreciation of his work that he always longed for... he just couldn't believe it. He didn't know it was possible to even be this overjoyed, but he was!

Thus, was in high spirits as he led his phantom follower out of a side door he'd been told led to a 'private garden'. It wasn't really a garden- there were no flowers, grass or trees- but it was a place for performers to go when they wanted some fresh air, but didn't want to risk some kind of mugging (or other dodgy activities that tended to occur in alleyways).

Hiccup took deep breaths of the fresh air, grinning ecstatically up at heavens as though he was searching the stars for some kind of godly sign that this was really reality- or perhaps thanking any gods that were up there for the most incredible ten minutes of his life.

"I can't believe I actually did it." He whispered. "... I actually did it!" He yelled in pure joy, laughing giddily as he turned to face the spirit. His heart felt like it was floating amongst the stars. Nothing could ruin his mood right now- he didn't think he'd ever lose this smile on his face.

Now he was out of the stage spotlight, the ghost's glow had returned to its usual silver hue.

"It was incredible!" The pianist exclaimed, but the spirit seemed strangely quiet. His grin just as broad as earlier, but it didn't seem to quite touch his eyes. Hiccup didn't pick up on this- he just stared at him in amazement. All this... this entire night... it was all thanks to him... and he couldn't be more grateful.

"Yeah... you were, Hic... you were amazing." He muttered. He was looking at, and speaking, straight to him, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. He still meant every word he was saying, but he was thinking of something else as he said them. His gaze seemed a little too focussed on the pianist- like he was committing him to memory.

Hiccup didn't take too much notice to it- he was too happy to let tiny details like that get him down- they probably meant nothing anyway... Like the sad look in his eyes that wouldn't quite meet his... and how his starry glow wasn't quite as bright as it was before... Or how he was stood on the ground, rather than floating just above it.

"This night has just been... amazing." Hiccup breathed. He searched for any words to thank the brilliant spirit, but nothing seemed to do him justice. He'd completely turned his life around in just under two hours. He'd taught him how to find happiness again- and given him hope when he thought he'd given that up a long time ago. He'd helped him fall in love with the piano again! Nothing he could say would ever be enough to express his gratitude to that ghost. He owed him everything.

"It feels like it's been forever, huh?..." The silver white spirit muttered. "Since we first met at that lake..." He reminisced, looking at the stars under which they'd first found each other. "I was dancing on the lake- you were just aimlessly walking in the park..." It was those stars that had inspired his first song for him, hadn't it, the spirit recalled, silently.

Hiccup smiled as he remembered it.

"Yeah." He agreed, slowly starting to stroll deeper into the gentle night- the ghostly boy following.

They walked slowly.

Side by side.

Only a single step between them.

"I remember laughing at some point... and you laughing too." He recalled, his normally firmly placed smile starting to slip. "I wish I could remember why we were laughing." He muttered, wistfully. Hiccup thought about it too. Yeah, he could remember chuckling with the spirit; he couldn't remember what had caused it though. Had it been something one of them had said?

"... I just wanted to say thanks, Hiccup." The boy jumped, staring at him in astonishment. Wha-! What had he done to deserve his thanks? "I can't remember anything..." he continued. "But there's some thing I just know- like I knew how I could play the violin-... and I just know that I've been waiting a long time for somebody to really hear my music in the way you do. To see it as more than just a song- and, I just, can't thank you enough for that." He told him.

Hiccup's elation started to fade away now. He guessed he should be happy he'd done so much for the spirit, just like he'd done for him... But it was the way he was saying it... It was almost sad, but not quite. What was he going on about all this for? He wondered... And was it him or did he appear to be slightly more transparent than usual?

"What's going on?" He asked him. He was starting to get nervous now- he didn't like the way he was talking like this. The spirit didn't answer- he stopped in place.

Hiccup stopped too- turning to face him so he could see the spirit's face properly. Something was going on, he could tell... Something was wrong, wasn't it. What was it?

The spirit took a deep, shaky breath, and looked up to meet him in the eyes. Hiccup frowned, worriedly. It was hard to tell through the glowing white light... but he almost thought he could see tears brimming in those brilliantly bright, diamond eyes. What was wrong, he thought.

"Close your eyes..." The ghost whispered.

Hiccup didn't like it, but he he did as he was told. Putting his faith once again in the silver spirit. Just tell me what's wrong, he thought. What's the problem? He didn't understand.

"... Don't forget me, Hiccup."

The words drifted across to him, through the silent blackness. They sounded like they were broken- like his voice had cracked slightly... Like he was about to start crying. Hiccup so desperately wanted to open his eyes, but he followed the ghost's wishes and kept them closed. Why was he saying that? What did he mean? What was going on?

...

"...Remember our duet..."

Hiccup swore he could feel a phantom teardrop fall...

...

...

He waited... listening for his voice to say something else... Was there another thing he wanted to say? What was he- why would he even say that? Of course he'd never forget their symphony! Not in a thousand years! He knew he wouldn't! Why was he even telling him that?!...

...

It had been a while now... What was he waiting for?... Was he going to speak?... When could he open his eyes?

"I promise.. I won't forget." He said to the silent air, worry starting to appear in his voice. Why wasn't the spirit saying anything? He was starting to panic now, but he forced it behind a happy facade and forced a smile.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" He smirked.

...

...Nothing...

His smile fell.

"This isn't funny!" He called out, voice shaking now. "Why aren't you answering me?!" He shouted- anger rising up to try and cover his fear, as he snapped his eyes open... He went silent.

The air in front of him was empty...

But why was it empty? Where did that silver ghost go? He searched vainly across the garden, turning round to look behind him. There was nowhere for him to hide out here. Where was he? He wouldn't have just left him like that. He couldn't have abandoned him! Where had he gone?! He had to be somewhere! This was just a joke right? Well, he was telling him- it wasn't funny!

He went to call out the spirit's name, when he realised something so stupid... He'd never even asked.

After everything he'd done for him, he didn't even think to find out his name?! He cursed his stupid idiocy, and tried to calm down his interior panic. He never knew where to insert asking a name into the conversation- he just kinda hoped he found out at some point. Why did his social inadequacy have to come and stab him in the back at the worst possible moment?

...Okay, the joke had gone on long enough... He should've come out by now...

Where was he?!

"Where have you gone?!" He yelled, freezing as the last word suddenly hit him. Hard.

... No... He couldn't be-... He just couldn't... No... He thought back to his last words:

'... Don't forget me, Hiccup...'

...He'd been trying to say goodbye.

... But that wasn't fair! No! He didn't get to say his goodbye! He couldn't just leave like that! Drop into his life, and turn it into upside down- fix his grief, help him to play again, remind him about hope- teach him how to be happy-!... He couldn't do all of that and then just leave him... What about their song... What about their melody?... He couldn't play it without him. It was incomplete without him... He was incomplete without him... What was he meant to do?... What could he do now... without him... What was he supposed to...?

His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the floor. He couldn't have gone! He wouldn't! How could he?! He'd couldn't have gone and left him- just like his mother did!...

Why did this happen to them... To the people who his life so wonderful- and magical... Why did they have to keep abandoning?... Why... Why did they have to leave him all alone... What did he do now?... What did he do without them?...

A soft curl of wind drifted across the garden- and with it, brought spirit's final whisper...

'Remember our duet...'

Slowly, the pianist's fingers curled up to squeeze into his palm...

"...I promise." He whispered into the empty, desolate air.

"I promise that's what I'll do." He said- a crystal teardrop falling from his eye, as he forced a smile onto his face.

That was what he'd taught him after all... He'd helped him find his smile again, and he was going to make sure he never lost it- ever- again. He was going to carry on smiling in his memory. For him... And he was going to carry on playing...

He promised that with every note he pressed, he would think of their song... and not a day would go by when he wouldn't remember their melody.

He'd stood on the open stage, later that night, accepting a grand trophy from some random man in a suit.

The audience had cheering and clapping as he recieved the award, but he'd just felt hollow. He'd smiled in gratitude, and taken the applause, but inside.. he just felt dead.

This wasn't his award. He didn't deserve it. It belonged to that beyond brilliant spirit who's name he could not have regretted more not knowing... Because, whilst they congratulated him, and sang praises about his 'incredible masterpiece'. Calling it a 'breakthrough'- 'a work of wonder'... they were wrong. It wasn't any of that. It was a duet. Never to be heard for it's true beauty.

A song of two seperated hearts.

An incompete melody.

But Hiccup never thought of it as that... He would always remember it...

...as their symphony.


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors note: hey everyone! Nope, the stories not done yet- still a little while yet. You'll know when it ends (I'll put "the end"XD) anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter- please let me know what you thought of it, it puts a smile on my face^^ see you tommorow!**

"... _Close your eyes.._."

Hiccup stirred... He was having that dream again, wasn't he...

A resounding applause... The ringing of piano keys. The beautiful sound of a violin played to the utmost perfection. A melody of two hearts joined together... and that mysterious face that wove throughout the entire dream- sometimes a breathtaking silver, but other times a pure gold. Those brilliant, diamond eyes, and permanently joyful smile... His guardian angel. Everything about him, and the times they shared together, reanimated in a beautiful dreamscape. Those haunting that words would follow him near the end: 'Don't forget me, Hiccup... Remember our duet.'

He'd always get so confused at that part. In his dream state, it felt as though the spirit had never left. He could relive those moments of eternal happiness forever and ever whilst he was asleep... but then it always ended the exact same way. His final words, followed with confusion and panic. He'd promise to remember, shout it desperately to the fading world, as his translucent, white face faded away right before his eyes. He'd try to follow, begging him not to go... and he'd always hear the exact same three words... "Close your eyes..." Everything would go black... and that was his cue to wake up.

He'd found the dreams a little weird at first (it was cliche, was it not? He'd only known him for two hours, and yet he saw him in his dreams). They didn't happen all the time- just occasionally... and over time, he grown to become grateful of those dreams. He'd hold onto them as best as he could as he slowly drifted awake- trying to keep hold of their distant euphoria and nostalgia... and even when he was awake he'd just lie there... Just lie still... and remember. He'd remember that amazing, life changing spirit- and everything they'd shared together- thinking of that memorable melody that had been written into his soul. He'd just hold onto it all for a few seconds... and let it shield him from the world.

It'd been almost four years since that night, he thought... It felt like forever had passed- and yet, also, no time at all. He slid heavily out of bed, and dragged himself sleepily across the room, rubbing his eyes.

Sometimes he'd wonder if it really was just a dream. It almost felt like that night had never happened. It did seem like a fantasy- like it was way too good to be true. But there was one thing that proved otherwise. He released a sigh that was almost a yawn, and looked across the room, a fond smile growing across his face. There, in the corner of the living room, was the tall, glass cabinet- and in that cabinet, sat proudly on the top shelf... was his first, notable trophy. A reminder that what had happened that day really had happened- he hadn't just imagined it. There were one or two other trophies he'd earned since sharing the cabinet with it, but that one took pride of place- right at the top where he could see it. He stifled another yawn and lazily wandered his way around the house for a good shower.

A ten minute soak and a plate of Nutella coated toast later, he was much more awake. He brushed the crumbs off his hands and glancing at a nearby clock, placing his plate by the sink for later... He still had another hour or so before his first lesson started- plenty of time to kill before he had to set off. The academy was only a ten minute walk away.

It didn't take long after his incredible performance for all those years ago for the talent scouts to start snapped him up. Offer after offer to attend prestigious academies and universities had thrown themselves in his face, until he got the one he had always wanted... Arendelle Academy.

He'd accepted of course- that wasn't an offer he was going to turn down- but he'd decided to take a gap year out of education first- to clear his head. The last thing he'd wanted after the sudden loss of his greatest teacher, muse and music partner, was enter a really intense, challenging music course that would take up almost every last minute of his time. It was the right choice, and he was glad he did it. He'd really needed the breath of fresh air to familiarise himself once more with playing the piano-reacquainting himself with it. But, more than anything, he'd needed the time to get over the strangely deep, personal loss that losing that silver/white spirit had been.

Now, three years into the course, he was almost finished with it. He was approaching the time where he needed to start making a name for himself- finding a way stand out from the other students, as he prepared himself to step out into the big music industry. If he had the spirit by his side, it would be no problem, he thought frequently- the two of them had managed to create a legendary piece together: a journalist who'd walked away from the performance had literally called it thus. "Deeply moving" she'd said: "music, the likes of which, I've never experienced before". Of course, there'd been huge weight of expectation on him to reproduce the masterpiece... but he never quite could. Try though he might, he'd never been able to recreate something of that standard.

His teacher was great- he'd come a long way with her as his mentor, but she also knew he was missing something. "A crucial element that was preventing him from reaching his full potential" she said. Not something, he always thought privately... someone.

He headed into the living room and eased himself onto the slightly worn, cushioned stool that sat before the grand piano. He always liked sitting here. He'd deliberately given the piano the best seat in the house- overlooking the garden, in front of the large window that spanned the living room. It was where the best daylight came streaming in, and always got the best sunsets- and if he leaned around the piano, he could see over the garden to catch glimpses of the quiet street. He didn't have much of a garden, really- it wasn't even a very impressive piece of grass- but it was his, at least. He'd moved closer to the academy to help with his study. It was only a small bungalow- but it was his, and it was home.

His dad had been surprisingly great about the whole 'moving out' thing. He'd even given him the money to help buy the place. Apparently he'd seen a change in him, some months after he came home with that trophy (no doubt when he was starting to get over the loss), and had decided he was going to help him step out into the world. They got along a lot better now, him and his dad. Even three years after he left, he still gave his father a call on Sundays- if nothing else, to let him know he was still alive. The calls were sometimes awkward, and very short, but their relationship was a lot better now than he would've ever thought possible four years ago.

But enough thinking about that, he thought. If he wanted to get anything done before he had to set off, he best get playing.

He smiled, and carefully uncovered the row of keys. The ones that used to inspire so many emotions in him: grief, fear, stress... But now... He didn't feel any of that. He saw them as how they were meant to be. A blank canvas, awaiting his touch. Ready to create anything he wanted... But, if he looked at them carefully... he could see the subtle hues of the darkest blue and the lightest gold.

He put away the printed sheets of paper resting on the prop stand to reveal hand written ones underneath. Those printed ones didn't matter for now- he was working on something personal. If he wasn't working on class assignments, or simply playing random, existing pieces for pleasure, he was always- without fail- working on this piece.

The paper was covered in pencilled notes and gaping gaps- nearly all of them written with an uncertain question mark- and there were more than a few rubbed out scribble marks visible with a squint. He gathered them together and lay them down gently on the piano, a waiting pencil ready to capture any notes he might remember. He took a deep, content breath; trying to recapture that beautiful moment when it seemed the stars had aligned, and he'd somehow been able to play a masterpiece that had inspired an entire theatre to stand and applause its brilliance. He hasn't done any of the brilliant part, of course- that part belonged to the moonlight spirit. His... friend?... He didn't know... Who really knows what they were... He thought. Or what they might've been...

He knew couldn't create that same magic again without his partner- he could play something that sounded like it, but it always just had a gaping hole in the middle. Any teachers he let hear it said it was missing something- just like all his performances were- but where they were stumped as to what it could be, he had no doubt. It was because it was missing its violin counterpart. An incomplete half... A broken duet. Yet, still he played on.

He'd been working tirelessly to try and recreate that song again ever since that one, life changing day- and he hadn't managed to recreate it once. Not one time, in four years, had he come close to matching the melody of that night. But he kept on working at it. Trying to restore the piece to its former glory... Even though, if he was being honest with himself, he no longer really expected to come up with that melody again, note for note, that wasn't the reason why he was doing it. He was keeping a promise he'd made... to the most amazing person he'd ever met. And so he'd keep on remembering- no matter what...

He closed his eyes, and reached for the keys.

... I haven't forgotten, he thought, wondering if that lost ghost would hear him.

... I still remember..


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors note: here we are- it's not quite finished yet^^ almost, but not yet. A few loose ends to tie off first. Hope you enjoy the chapter- I won't keep you from it any longer- feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought! See you tommorow^^**

The slam of a loud car door made him jump. What in the world? He was startled- and frowned in confusion- but he kept his eyes shut. He shouldn't have been surprised- it could've been neighbours... except he didn't have any neighbours. Not close enough to disturb him, anyway. His bungalow was semidetached- and the house it was attached to was empty... So who on earth was...?

"That's all the bags from the middle!" He heard a woman call out to some unknown person. Presumably they were already in the house and didn't hear her, since there was no response.

"Mum! Mum! I got the trophies!" This new voice was that of a little girl- a thoroughly excited one by the sounds of it. He could practically see her- bouncing on the toes of her feet, carrying the aforementioned box of trophies.

Deciding the song could wait (he was in no rush)- and he wouldn't be able to concentrate properly with this racket anyway- he amused himself with imagining the scene outside. A car parked beside the patch of grass that joined the two houses, mirroring his own parked vehicle. The little girl holding a box full of trophies, jumping about with excitement, as a woman bustling around the car, trying to organise its unloading.

Looks like someone's moving in, he noticed. The house had been for sale for as long as he'd seen it. He never really saw anyone getting shown round it since he spent a lot of his time at campus, but it looked like it had finally been sold.

"Alright- be careful with them!" The woman called in response to the little girl. "Take in what you can from the boot, but leave the music for your brother. You know what he's like about it- I bet you that instrument of his is already inside." She chuckled.

Music? Instrument? Perhaps it was a student. Arendelle? He wondered. He knew some other students took up residence in the area, but he didn't really know them all that well- they specialised in different departments. He knew old Nic played brass, and Aster and Tiana played woodwind (clarinet and flute respectively, if he remembered right), but he never really saw them around campus, so he didn't know a lot about them. He wondered what his new neighbour would be... He hoped he wasn't a modern band muscian- like a drummer or guitarist. He'd heard they could be very loud neighbours- especially when they 'got the band together'.

"Speak of the devil." The woman said loudly, an unspoken smile in her voice. "Come on, you- when you've quite finished goggling at the place, me and your sister are doing all the work here." She scolded, teasingly. He heard an apologetic chuckle reply, and his brows furrowed slightly. That was weird. It seemed really familiar-.

"Sorry mom- I'm just so excited." A new voice broke in.

It was like being hit by lightning. Hiccup's eyes were open faster than flying bullet. He froze. Suddenly curiously tense. Shaken like a vibrating tuning fork had been pressed into his chest.

... No way... It- it couldn't be... He felt numb- paralysed by pure, disbelieving shock. It just couldn't be!

"Well, you best hope Emma doesn't trip and smash those trophies of yours." The woman's voice reprimanded. He vaguely saw her small silhouette through the window. He would've seen her shake her head if his eyes hadn't locked, and spaced out into a different universe.

"Go on- your music's buried in the boot somewhere." She told him, dismissively.

"Sure thing!" The voice called after her as she headed inside the house.

Somehow, Hiccup suddenly came crashing back down to earth from the other universe he'd been stuck in. He was on his feet before he even realised what he was doing, craning his neck round the grand piano- trying to get a glimpse of next door. He could see a figure through the distant car window- partially blurred, partially in shadow, partially obscured... But just visible enough...

He watched the figure root around through the back of the car... The impossibly familiar figure. But even then he couldn't believe it. He just couldn't! How could it be him?! It wasn't possible!... After all these years...

The stool fell to the floor with a muted thud- the piano abandoned, music forgotten- all that Hiccup was focussed on was the impossible silhouette next door. He flew towards the front door- frantically battling with the key to get it to open, and not even bothering to shut it behind him. He desperately fought through he glare of the sun that, after the darkness of the entrance hall, blinded him. He needed to see! He had to see this dammit! He ran across his drive like he'd never ran before. Heart going ten to the dozen as a thousand emotions span round his head like orbiting planets. His thoughts had gone numb, but his mind was going wild! No way- there was just no way. This couldn't be real! Was it really-? Wa- was it... Was it him?!

By the time his vision cleared, he was already speeding across the garden- crossing the threshold from his house to next door's. The figure had dragged himself out of the car, and was headed towards the house- a stack of too many boxes towering over his head. Hiccup's eyes locked onto that stack of boxes. Taking in every last part of the impossible boy he could see next to the cardboard.

Slim fingers that looked like they could hold and manipulate a bow with ease... They were just like his.

Pointlessly- ridiculously- bare feet, and three quarter length trousers that showed no regard for the cold... Just like he'd see when he'd watched him skate!

Loose, comfortable, blue fabric... He prayed it belonged to a hoodie.

Everything about him screamed of that ghost- except that this wasn't a ghost, and it wasn't a dream! How could it be- WOAH! He had no idea how it would've played out normally- but his feet decided to revisit their unfortunate habit of tripping over themselves at the worst possible moments.

He went flying- crashing head over heels straight into the pillar of boxes.

...Owww... This concrete was not very forgiving of people landing on it...

He was sprawled on the ground- half written music sheets scattered around him as he struggled to come to his senses. He hauled himself onto all fours... ow... Stupid feet- wait... He heard a groan from just in front of him...

And it felt like time had stopped... He was about to see for sure... If it really was him. His guardian saviour from four years ago... He hardly dared look up... But he couldn't bear to stand the agony of waiting any longer... Everything froze.

His heart went still, his lungs went slack... eyes slowly widening.. as he drew a breathless gasp into his lungs...

But that was...

"Ow." The guy in front of him grumbled. It was him... It was his voice! It was his face! He sounded just like him- and he looked exactly like him! Well, almost. He wasn't quite like he remembered him; because the violinist he knew had been a ghost, a spirit... and this person in front of him was most definitely alive. His skin was pale, but it was not even close to translucent.

... It was so strange... What had once been nothing but white, he was now seeing in full colour... And apparently his hair was naturally that windswept, because it's style hadn't changed one bit- aside from how you would expect it to change over a few years. It's style might've been correct, but it's colour wasn't. It was a rich, chestnut brown- not the glowing white he knew from his memories.

This was surreal. He was clearly visible- in full, defined colour- crumpled on the ground instead of hovering above hovering above it. It was so different to the boy he was used to and yet still... Hiccup felt overwhelming joy banish his disbelief.

It was him.

Standing right in front of him after four long years... He'd barely changed... It was funny- in four years he'd grown from an awkward, skinny dork into a full grown girl magnet (or so he'd been told)- and yet this living spirit didn't look like he'd changed one bit. But that didn't matter. He was back... and, more importantly, he was alive.

"Emma, you need to watch where you're-" The impossibly real boy stirred, sitting up- scrunched eyes fluttering. Hiccup inexplicably found himself holding his breath. What colour were they really, if they weren't diamond white...? "...Going." The boy finished, looking straight at him... with warm, chocolate eyes. Not a dark chocolate, he thought- more of a melted milk... Or, wait, was it a little darker than that? Or richer? Or softer... Was it more of a chestnut? Hold on- was that a hint of aubern in there? No, it was a goldish tint... Was it? Four years he'd been waiting to know what colour the spirit's eyes had been, and he still couldn't decide. But then they locked with his own, forest green, eyes, and it ceased to matter. Hiccup felt himself cast under their spell once again- pure white, or undefinable brown, they were just as entrancing.

Those were his eyes- without a shadow of a doubt.

The same eyes that he lost himself in every time they met his... They still took his breath away...

But... there was something about them that wasn't quite there... Where was the realisation and recognition? There was almost no reponse. He was right in front of him! Didn't that inspire anything? Why was he giving him that look, as though...? As though he was just a complete stranger he'd just bumped into... No...

"Wow my little sister grew up all of a sudden." He muttered, before a casual, friendly smirk spread across his face. But it was a greeting smirk- the kind of smile you did with people didn't know, when you were trying to make friends. He supposed you could call it a winning smile... But he definitely didn't feel like he was winning. Didn't he have anything to say to him? After four years?... Could he really have...

The boy opened his mouth to say something else (no doubt some kind everyday greeting to a stranger that would surely break the pianist's heart), when he caught sight of the scattered sheets around them.

"Shoot- my music!" He cursed, scrambling to pick them up. The moment broken, Hiccup's better nature kicked in, and he started helping him gather the loose sheets... He didn't get it. Why he was acting like this was the first time they'd met? Thankfully there wasn't much wind about, so the papers didn't have much chance of escape. He dimly registered that this was his fault and started to apologise for his clumsiness, as he pounced on a piece that was about to get blown out of reach.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you."

"S'alright, no harm done." The boy told him, chuckling. Hiccup couldn't quite bring himself to chuckle back.

He busied himself with collecting the sheets, trying to figure out what was going on. He'd promised to remember that spirit/boy/whatever he was- and he'd kept to his promise! The violinist wouldn't have forgotten him... Would he? For a moment cold doubts slipped their way into his mind. What if he had forgotten. What if he was just a random pianist he met one night for a few hours and didn't even bother remembering... No. That was wrong. That silver ghost wouldn't have forgotten-... Oh... Of course.

He'd been a bit stupid to assume that he'd remember him, really. Whatever must've happened to bring the silver spirit into the world of the living would've obviously wiped his memories of that night (whether it was some kind of resurrection, reincarnation, magic, voodoo or goodness knows what else). Really, he should've been surprised if he did remember. There was that unspoken law in myths and stories about stuff like this: if you get a new life, you have to forget the old one (it saves tying off any painful loose ends, he guessed was the logic of it).

Still, he couldn't help but wish the spirit would at least recognise him. Everything they'd been through... Was he was going to be the only one to remember any of that? The thought was almost painful. But worse than that was the thought that the boy didn't even know him anymore. He'd completely forgotten him... But perhaps the worst thing of all was that if he'd forgotten everything... that meant he'd forgotten their symphony. The song which he'd fought so hard to hold on to, now forgotten by its other half. He was completely oblivious to its even existance. He'd promised to remember it for him and yet now he just-.

His heart started to sink lower and lower, and he subconsciously noticed he'd gathered all of the scattered music sheets and held them out for their creator to collect. He wasn't really paying attention, so he was stunned when a slender, surprisingly cold, hand touched his own. His entire arm went numb for a moment, as the truth really sank in.

He was really here in front of him... Against all odds... He thought he'd never see him again, and yet, here he was in front of him. Alive! A real, solid, living, breathing person. Flesh and blood, instead of emptiness and light. Who cares if he's forgotten, if it means he's been brought back to life! He was still the same person as before. They could just start again. Maybe they'd lost a bit of a past, but they'd gained an entire future. Besides, that only meant that he could fall in love with his music all over again... Love... Was that what it had been?

He realised he still hadn't let go of the pages, and hurriedly feigned interest in them to try and cover up the awkward situation.

"Ah, er, didn't know you wrote." He said, quickly. His eyes found themselves drawn to the bold title at the top of the page, but it was upside down. He squinted to try and read what it said...

Something inside him felt like it had collided with a brick wall.

"Yeah, violin." The boy answered. Hiccup didn't hear... _'A forgotten half'_... No. Stop it. He thought. It almost certainly meant something else- don't jump to conclusions! He scolded himself, but he couldn't stop the fragile hope starting to grow within him. Could this really be-...? Did he really remember-...?

He didn't even realise he'd spoken the name out loud, until the boy suddenly smiled and explained.

"It's just something I've been working on for a couple of years now." Hiccup stared at the piece, marvelling it like it was the greatest treasure in the world. Years? The hope started to spread like wildfire. Stop it. That could mean anything. He told himself. Don't get your hopes up. "Bit of a mess, huh? I can never get it quite right. You ever hear a song once- and you can almost remember it, but it just nags at the back of your mind for ages? It's sorta like one of them." He finished.

... Okay, he couldn't deny it anymore. There was definitely something there- like he'd just said, he could almost remember! He almost remembered their symphony! But whenever he tried to reach it, it just kept slipping from his grasp... Hiccup knew that frustration all too well- he got the exact same feeling whenever he himself tried to recall that melody. Wait. His heart skipped a beat. He was attempting to record down the duet, just like he was? He caught his breath for a moment. He was staring at an almost remembered, incomplete half of their old duet... Just like the one that sat on his piano! It was even just as full of infuriatingly long gaps, and uncertain question marked notes- just like his!

He jumped, as a loud shout echoed from the open door of the newly occupied house, jolting him from his thoughts.

"Jackson Overland Frost- what are your gloves, coat and shoes doing on the floor?! You're gonna catch your death out there!" She shouted. "Again." She added, loudly, so he'd hear it. What? Hiccup thought, cogs starting to turn.

The boy smiled at the comment, as he rolled his eyes- shaking his head, as he stuffed the collected papers back in the open box, and pushed the flaps shut.

"I'm fine Mom!" He called back, shooting Hiccup a look that said 'mothers, huh?' Hiccup would've pointed out that his hands actually were quite cold, if he wasn't too busy wondering what the heck his mother meant by:

"Again?" He repeated, questioningly.

"Oh yeah." The boy replied, apparently realising how odd that sounded. "Had an ice skating accident a few years ago- pronounced dead for two whole hours before the doctors got me into some kind of induced coma. Then I ended up spending a few weeks clocked out in a hospital before I came round to myself again." He informed, casually, like he was everyday news- he even carried on stacking the boxes on top of each other, ready to carry in, as he was telling him.

Hiccup's swore his mouth could've been touching the floor at that moment. He might as well have been punched with that information. So he-... He'd-... Wait, wait, wait, so what?... The story seemed to have short circuited his brain from sheer overload of thoughts, questions and feelings. Seeing his stunned face, the boy laughed lightly, and grinned at him, reassuringly.

"Don't worry." He told him. "That was ages ago- it didn't even stop me skating." Hiccup didn't think he could've been more shocked. He was wrong. This boy was just-... he was a special kind of crazy. He'd died for two hours, and he didn't even seem bothered by it. Heck- he bet he went back on the skating rink to celebrate his recovery (it honestly wouldn't surprise him at this point).

"Besides- look at me now." The boy grinned. "Managed to get myself in Arendelle... Somehow." He joked, standing up and offering his hand. Hiccup, still requiring his brain from its short circuit, blinked at it for a second before accepting it and pulling himself up.

It took another moment for his words to sink in. Arendelle? So he might see him around campus? Never mind campus! He lives next door!

"So you play the violin then, Jackson?" He commented, more to savour his name than anything.

"Just Jack." He corrected. "Mom only calls me Jackson when I'm in trouble. Whiiich is pretty much all the time." He said, voice straining slightly as he picked up the heavy stack of boxes and started to carry them in.

... Jack... He thought... He knew his name finally after all these years he had a name for the ghost that changed his life...

He didn't even notice the slow smile spread across his face, as he went to head back over to his own house. Maybe he could bring some biscuits over, or lend a hand? Until his lesson started, at least. But he still had a good half an hour until then- and the academy was only a ten minute walk away. It was what good neighbours did, right. And he was his neighbour, afterall. The thought somehow made him slightly giddy.

"And, actually, I play music- not the violin. The violin just kinda goes with it."

The joke was thrown over to him like a casual comment, but it hit Hiccup like a long lost, private joke. He stood, stock still, as he struggled to accept what he'd just heard. But.. he couldn't remember! He thought he'd forgotten all that...

He swallowed hard, gathering his courage, before committing himself to the following words.

"So if took it away, and replaced it with any other instrument, you'd be just fine?" He questioned, his whole being holding its breath for his response.

"Give me a few weeks! I could make it work!" The boy called back, completely unaware that he'd just said the magic words.

Hiccup turned... How would he know to say that?... How could he remember that, if he didn't remember him? He thought... He thought he'd forgotten...

He watched his retreating back as he walked into the house... He felt hope start to flutter in his chest... Hope for what might be. Maybe, he did remember. Somewhere, deep down, the memories of that night lingered... and maybe one day he could bring them back. Or maybe it was just a sign that things could go back to the way they were. Maybe it was impossible for his memory to return. Maybe... But that symphony had been written on their hearts- it was not something that was just so easily forgotten. Whatever the case may be, he felt hopeful for the future. Suddenly, it was looking very bright indeed.

He walked back into his house, leaving the front door ajar he was so dazed with it all. His eyes fell upon his grand piano... and the small bunch of papers resting atop it... and for the first time, in several years, a broad, true smile, that only one person could truly bring to his face, spread across his lips.

Jack was alive.

Maybe, he didn't remember him yet- maybe he never will. But he had faith.

Had it been love? He wondered. Who knows... Maybe it will be once more. But one thing he knew for sure: their duet was not yet done.

It would play again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors note: hey guys! Double whammy today, cos these chapters go together but I didn't want them on the same page^^ this is the last update for this story but I'll say goodbye on the next chapter^^ also if you wouldn't mind staying behind a few seconds to help me choose my next story I'd really appreciate it^^ alright, enough rambling- here's the chapter- hope you like it! See you on the next one!**

Hiccup let his bag fall off his shoulder. It slumped onto the ground, weighed down by the miniature library Hiccup kept inside it. He nudged it carelessly under the piano- careful to avoid the pedals he sometimes used, and sat down, heavily, on the cushioned stool in front of the academy owned piano. He let out a long, weary sigh. Today had been one wild ride- and that was an understatement. He'd had possibly the biggest shock in his life- his whole world flipping upside down- and this morning's lessons had been brutal.

This was the first bit of free time he'd had all morning. Finally, he had the freedom to play whatever he wanted- without the teacher's critical eye following his every move. She'd seemed particularly focussed today- working him hard to search for that 'full potential' she never deemed found. She seemed a little dissatisfied with the results, as always, but this time there was something different: frustration, like she knew they were close to cracking something, but they couldn't quite get it. She said there'd been a lot of improvement this morning (which was some of the highest praise he'd ever got from her). He was playing differently- and, in all honesty, he felt different too.

The morning's breaking news of his arrival of his new neighbour and old guardian angel/ghost he met four years ago, who'd relit his passion for the piano- it felt like that missing link in his life had fallen back into place. It kept the touches of a smile on his face, no matter how tough the morning's tutoring had got- and man had it been tough.

He stretched his hands, slowly waking his fingers that felt like they were still half asleep. It was as if they'd been running up and down the piano keys so long they'd got tired, he reflected, chuckling. Normally, after a day like today's, he'd give it a rest, and wait until he got home to start playing again, but he just couldn't help it this time. He had a song he'd been itching to play all morning. He would've attempted it during the lesson, but this was something he always worked on privately. He didn't want anyone seeing the half finished version, and he didn't want to treat it like every other piece of music- it was special, and he treated it as such. Normally, he wouldn't use the free music room and would go home to use his own piano, but he was too impatient to wait until then. He breathed a deep breath.

Time to try their symphony again.

The song had changed since its debut on the stage. The first section had grown stronger- more heartbreaking, and complete in its sorrow. The longing much more powerful and intense than before. In some ways, that could be considered a good thing- but the second part was where it all went to ruin.

Any happiness he'd found in that part of the symphony had gone sour. He'd never been able to play the part he created for the spirit, without it turning wistful for the things that might've been. Sometimes he even got up and stormed away from the piano- bitter resentment of the spirit's absense taking away his will to play. The joy of that part of the song seemed to have been leeched from it and buried under a pile of sorrow.

...But now... he could feel it again.

That distant euphoria- that incredible happiness the ghost had instilled in him... and he felt sure that if he dug through the rubble, and blew away the dust... he could find that lost duet again. But he couldn't bring himself to start from its dark beginning. He just couldn't seem to find a shadow to play from. It was like trying to force rain from a clear, blue sky. He just couldn't do it. So, he decided to start from the middle. From the point where the lament for his mother had ended... and his dance with the spirit had begun.

And he started it, as always... by closing his eyes.

He reached for the ivory keys.


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors note: the last chapter guys! This is it^^ I hope you've enjoyed this little story- hopefully it's got me back in the mood for writing and it won't be too long before the next one- ooh speaking of which- can I ask a quick favour?**

 **after this chapter I'm gonna post a bunch of story descriptions. Can I just have your ideas of what you think of each to help me choose which to do next? Thank you so much^^**

 **and also massive massive thank you to everyone who's reviewed (shoutout to elizaravenfeather for such amazing and long reviews^^) again for the last time, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the ending^^ that's it though! See you with the next story whichever you choose it to be- BYEEEEEE!^^**

Wow- this place was massive! Even just the corridors were five times bigger than the ones he was used to. He couldn't help but love this place, though- it was like walking through a live orchestra. He'd even randomly walked down the main corridor during lesson times- and heard at least thirty different instruments playing: viola, trumpet, French horn, a set of drums, various guitars, flute, bassoon (he even swore I heard a harp at some point). It was like roaming a zoo filled with musical instruments, he thought.

He smirked at the analogy, and swung his violin burdened arm over his shoulder. It felt weird holding it in the wrong hand than he was used to, but his stronger arm was too tired. They really didn't take things easy here, did they? He wouldn't be surprised if his arm got cramped by the end of the day. Now where was the nearest place for lunch? He was probably on the entirely wrong side of the school, knowing him.

This place was a maze he had yet to memorise at the moment- and, yep. He was hopelessly lost. But, that was fine. He decided to have a little fun, and turn it into a little game.

How to find out where the food was? He thought. Easy.

He listened, as he wandered the maze of corridors, trying to identify each instrument as he passed. If he remembered right, percussion was next to one of the on campus cafe/restaurant places. Lucky percussionists, he thought.

It was relatively quiet now- most people had left for lunch- but with a school this prestigious, you could bet there were always a few, dutiful students staying behind to work over lunch.

Saxophone...

Horn...

Trumpet...

Trombone...

Clarinet...

Flute...

Oboe...

Harp...

Viola... Hey, he was headed into his home turf, he realised. He thought he recognised that sleek, white with brown decor.

Yeah... Over there was one of the rooms he might end up having lessons in, he remembered this. He was pretty sure strings were on the exact opposite side of the building to percussion. Great. Well, time to keep movi-hold on a minute... He slowed down to a stop, as a different instrument started to reach his ears.

He was so busy paying attention to the violin rooms, he'd completed forgotten about the rooms on the opposite side of the corridor. He didn't even know what they were for (he hadn't been paying full attention on the tour)... but he got the impression... it was piano- if the enchanting melody he was listening to right now was anything to go by.

It was so hauntingly familiar... Teasing at the edge of his memory like mental itch. It was the exact opposite to the sensation he was used to- and yet, exactly the same. He spent a lot of his time searching for a song he almost knew, but now... He was being presented with a song- but it somehow still teased at the edge of his memory, in the same way his 'Forgotten Half' did.

He found himself moving towards the closed door, like a siren was on the other side- luring him in... That song... He almost felt like he knew it but...

It was on the other side of this door. He could hear it. He strained his ears to listen...

The way it was played... That style... He knew this kind of music. Hiccup? He thought. It sounded just like his neighbour's music. He could practically hear the twenty-ish year old in the song, but wait... How did he know what Hiccup's music was like?

How could he recognise his style? He hadn't heard him play before... Had he? He struggled to remember... He felt certain he had heard it before, and yet... he couldn't remember a time when he could've heard it.

He couldn't stand it anymore- that endless nagging just kept tugging at his curiosity, urging him to push forwards the door and enter the room. He gave in to its wishes. He stepped inside... quietly, and wordlessly...

Hiccup was there- sat playing the piano, exactly as he'd predicted it. How? How had he known it was him? This was the first time he'd heard him play... Even as he said it, he didn't believe. He'd heard Hiccup play before... He just didn't know when... He was really good... Incredible even...

He started to loose himself in pianist's song. His fingers working a unique kind of magic across the keys. How he remembered them all he didn't know- how could he even choose what to press? There were like a hundred keys in front of him, but each one found its place in the song perfectly. He always thought it was incredible how pianist's played- each hand seemed to move with a mind of its own, playing two seperate songs at once, and yet somehow blended them into one.

His brown eyes followed his nimble fingers, as they dancing up and down the keys. Black and white; and black and white; and black and white. Why couldn't there be more colour on them? He always wondered. Why must the keys be so dull? Why couldn't they be gold, or blue?

Hiccup's head was bowed, slightly- moving in time with the music, as it flowed up and down like a rolling sea. But, wait, was he...? Were his eyes closed? That was exactly how he played! It freaked out anyone who watched him (and even moreso anyone who tried to copy), but, for him, it was the only way to play. He thought he was the only one who did that. Apparently not. It seemed Hiccup also shared that particular, little playing quirk. But, he almost didn't care about what he was seeing- because the music... It was the most magical feeling.

It wasn't like he was hearing it at all- it was like he was feeling it. He could feel everything Hiccup was feeling, as though he was the one playing it. He was feeling... Happy. The kind of happy that came after a settling of something from a long time ago...It almost felt like he was... talking to someone. Someone he'd known a long time ago... Who? He wondered...

And then the most impossible thing happened.

He heard words within the music.

There was no vocals in the song- and Hiccup wasn't saying a thing- and yet, somehow... words reached him like they'd been spoken to him... No it wasn't like that... It was like he could hear the raw essence of each word, resonating with him... He tried to fine tune the feeling... It was Hiccup- no doubt about it.

'It's been a long time.' He was saying, through the music. '...I feel like I'm finally starting to remember this... I thought I'd never be able to recreate the feeling.'

This was surreal, Jack almost thought, and yet... It almost like it was supposed to be. This was music as it was meant to be heard. What he always aspired to in his music... What he felt like he'd found and lost, somehow... A long time ago... About four years...

'Who are you playing for?'

He froze.

Those weren't words that were being played right now. They were something from a long time ago... Words that seemed to have been locked in some distant memory... Something Hiccup had told him, through music, when the two of them were playing together... From when they played together? Wait, he'd he'd met Hiccup before?

Then he remembered.

He remembered dancing on a lake. Noticing a young boy staring, wide eyed with wonder at him- who'd hurriedly looked away the second their eyes met.

He remembered being so intrigued those eyes... They so young and yet so old at the same time. They were such sad eyes.

He remembered hating how foreign a smile seemed on his face, like he didn't do it often, but loving the joy he'd felt upon seeing it.

He remembered his concern as sank to the ground- the boy terrified of the upcoming concert, and yet stubbornly refusing to cry. He remembered playing a song to try and cheer him up. The boy giving him inspiration like nothing he'd ever felt before... And remembered his astonishment, as he met his eyes afterwards, and realised... he'd done so much more than just hear the music- he'd truly felt it, in a way he'd always dreamed people would.

He remembered the feeling as though those forest green eyes were looking straight at him. In a lifetime of being invisible- known only as 'that guy who played violin like a girl'- it meant an awful lot.

For so long his little sister had been the only one he actually felt cared about him (his mother did her best- but as a single mother of two, there was only so much time she could spend with them). All he'd wanted was someone who didn't see straight through him... and then that freckle dotted boy had done it. In those few seconds, it felt like that boy has seen him more clearly than almost anyone else in his whole life.

He remembered talking to him on the train. Being astonished by the boys sheer faith in him- like he truly believed he could play anything absolutely anything and create a masterpiece from it- and sharing some faith of his own; doing whatever he could to stop the boy's self doubt defeating him. He'd just somehow known that, deep down, he was amazing musician, and he just had to believe in himself a little more.

He remembered before they were called onstage- having to hug and reassure the boy as he suffered from his horrendous stage fright; wondering, how anyone could've let it get so bad... and how long he'd been bottling it up.

He remembered walking him up onto the stage with him, side by side... The sheer belief pouring from his eyes, as he looked at him for help. Staring straight at him, in a way that stunned him so thoroughly, he'd almost not known how to respond.

He remembered telling him to close his eyes, and the instant he said it, he did it.

He remembered watching him play the first few minutes of that song... the tears that had pricked in his eyes, as he got a mere glimpse of the all consuming grief plaguing the teen- a lament that could only be caused by a lost parent... His mother, he'd somehow known... He'd felt a deep twinge in his heart, as he saw a tear slip onto the boy's freckled cheeks...

And he remembered closing his own eyes, desperately- doing whatever he could to try and ease the boy's sorrow... and following on his incredible journey, as he learned to accept and climb over that impossibly tall barrier that was his grief. Then, his incredible joy and relief, as he started up a new melody. One of beauty, and life, and joy, as he flourished- right before his eyes- into the incredible person he knew he'd been from the very beginning.

He remembered watching, proudly, as Hiccup took the theatre's applause, that he more than definitely deserving of.

Then, he remembered trying to hold on, desperately, as he felt himself getting pulled away. Knowing there was nothing he could do, and doing everything he could to try and soften the blow of his leaving. Telling him to close his eyes, and watching his confused, worried face as he whispered his plea to remember him- taking it his face as though for the very last time. A single tear slipping from his eye, as that that face slowly slipped away.

But, most of all, he remembered that one magical moment...

A new world had been born... and it was theirs. Just the two of them... staring breathless at each other. That crazy, indefinable feeling burning within them- connecting them... as the last remnants of their duet faded into a beautiful silence. A thousand words passing through their eyes, and not a single one of them mattering. All that mattered was that single rhythm that seemed to resonate across the space between them. Their two hearts, beating together as one.

Slowly the past faded away, and he came back to the present- to the sound of that life changing melody being revived once more.

... He blinked, as he realised that was the same pianist sat before him now. Hiccup?.. Was this really the same person? He'd seemed so grown up... And so confident now- so settled in himself- and, well... handsome... What had happened? Where had the time gone?

And then it hit him. Four years had passed since that day... Four, long, sets of three hundred and sixty five days.

Had he been trying to remember that song the whole time? Attempting to recall the scraps of his half of the duet that he could create, with the gaping hole that had been left by his absence... He'd been holding on... This whole time.

...He really hadn't forgotten him, had he...

... Four years...

He let the music drift on, slowly drawing towards its close... All this time... He'd been waiting for him...

He felt a damp shine start to appear in his eyes... He remembered his mother said once, a long time ago, that tears came from a melting heart... And his was well and truly swimming.

He wasn't going to keep him waiting any longer.

He quietly set the sleek black case he carried onto a nearby table. Carefully undoing the clasps... and pulling out the smooth, oiled instrument.

It belonged in this duet- and he couldn't wait any longer for it to join its rightful place in the melody.

He raised the lightweight bow to rest delicately on the taunt row of strings... Hiccup'd had been waiting far too long to hear this... but he was here now... And he remembered.

He closed his eyes, opening his heart to the words Hiccup played, right as the song reached its end.

'I did like you promised... I never forgot you.' A silver tear threatened to fall as he heard those words resonate with his being. I know you didn't, he thought, trying hard to keep his emotions under control. They were tearing him apart- drowning him like a great ocean, but still he held them back; waiting to channel them into his music. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you... but I'm back now... I remember! I remember us- I remember that night...

And I remember-

'And I never forgot-'

The bow slid smoothly over the delicate stings, in a flawless sequence of heartfelt notes... as the piano finished, with a quiet flourish of its ivory keys.

A simple message sent through through the words. Simple: but powerful.

"Our symphony."


	15. Next story? Please help!

**Authors note: hey^^ so I have a couple of ideas for stories I could do next but I have no idea which to choose XD if you could spare a minute to give me your thoughts on them it would be a huge help^^ thanks guys :-)**

G.A.

Fairy godmothers nowadays are more like Nanny McPhee on budget than Cinderella. At least that's how my new G.A. (Or Guardian Angel) describes it... Honestly, I wasn't expecting a fairy godmother to be a guy. Longish story. Hiccup and Jack. Guardian angel AU.

Lone Wolves 

When wolves come of age they leave the safety of their packs and enter the dangerous Outerlands. She thought she'd be spending the rest of her life as a lone wolf- afterall, who would ever accept someone who has been cursed with ice? But the Outerlands aren't as lawless and cruel as she thought- maybe it's exactly what she needed. Relatively short story. Jack and Elsa. Wolf AU.

Fallen Angel

Angels are beings of light. They cannot fall prey to any sin: hunger, laziness, jealousy, anger, pride, greed... And love. Angels are forbidden from fallen in love with mortals- it's physically impossible for them to do so... So what's this strange, warm feeling stirring in his chest? Angel AU. Jack and Rapunzel? (Open to a different love interest)


	16. Chapter 16

Epilogue

 **Authors note: Hey guys! It's my birthday! Wooohoooo! (Eighteen years old and still going to the zoo instead of throwing a party ;-D) anyways, I really wanted to celebrate with you guys so here you go! A nice little epilogue of life after the story^^ ooh and I have a quick question at the end too. That's all for now guys, enjoy the story! BIRTHDAY CAKE FOR ALL OF YOU!**

Music is an incredible thing. It's always been there for us. Throughout every high and low, its supported us- and, through its support, we've ended up here. Stood on the stage of the world finals; bowing. Representing the entire country- and trying to uphold the legendary legacy of Arendelle Academy, and Snow Queen Records.

I still can't believe we got a deal from a real life record company- let alone Snow Queen Records! And thanks to Elsa herself, no less! The founder and unofficial principal of Arendelle Academy- head of the biggest instrumental record company- possibly, in the world- personally chose me and Jack to ask if we wanted to make a deal with her. She'd heard about us from from Anna (yeah, my music teacher? That was Elsa Arendelle's sister), and stood in during one of our somewhat secret lunchtime playing sessions (I assume that, somehow, Anna found out about them).

We'd only known she was there when we were finished and she decided to announce herself. I'd known her on sight- Jack (simple boy pursuing a passion, that he was) didn't even recognise her. It took me weeks to get over that (how could he not know who Elsa Arendelle is?!), but regardless, she had us play privately for her in a massive palace I wouldn't have been surprised to find out was made from ice. This turned out to be her house.

A few songs in, and that was all she wanted to hear. The deal was sealed.

We had a record deal...with Snow Queen Records.

As far as the normal world goes, we're lucky if someone recognises a song- but, in our industry, the tracks went viral! People started calling us 'the next big thing'- 'the modern Mozart and Beethoven'- and the fact that we made everything up on the spot? Ridiculous! Impossible! No one believed us, until they saw it with their own eyes. But, of course, it is a small industry. Classical music isn't as well loved as it was, but we never wanted to be celebrities anyway. If we were called in for some big, fancy stage performance; great. But, we took whatever we could: small gigs, big gigs, playing on the street. We didn't care- we just loved playing. Where we were playing didn't matter.

We even entered competitions, just for fun. Any winnings from it, so much the better, but we never really played them seriously... Well, I didn't. Jack tended to get a little too competitive at those things- always insisting (loudly) that I was a better player than anyone going up against us. Never "I am" better- only "this guy" is better- or occasionally "we". For all the incredible skill he possessed, Jack still refused to take any of the limelight he deserved. Me? I still just considered myself lucky to be able to play with someone that amazing- not that I liked to belittle my own abilities, but I'll always look up to that violinist, no matter how good I get.

And now the competitions have led us to this. We weren't even going to enter at first- but when literally everyone we knew started pushing us for it, we decided to give it a shot- chances are we'd never make it to the finals, but we'd have a good time anyway. But here we are. At the finals. On stage. At the world championships.

I looked across at Jack... and I swore his white hair was glowing in the spotlights. I only had a few seconds to marvel his hair, before silver blue eyes turned to meet my own... Again, the moment only lasted a few seconds, before we went to take our positions with our instruments. The white hair was something he did in homage to night we met. I almost missed the chestnut brown sometimes, but I never cease to be amazed by the gesture- and brown eyes didn't work with white hair, apparently, so he wore blue contacts. That was his personal touch- although both of us knew it was to commemorate his family aswell. They'd named him Jackson Overland Frost, and so he decided to take on a resemblance to his mythological counterpart... in name of the family of Frost. The last of the family of Frost. I know he misses them dearly, and I know he's wondering if they're watching him right now- if they're proud of him. I know they will be... Just like my father will. I was also a family down now... We just had each other.

We looked up at each other once more. This is it. We knew were thinking. Lets do this...

Our eyes closed together.

Silence...

There was an expectant pause, and yet my hands stayed still... So the violin started playing for me.

This is how we normally start. Jack waits to see if there's something I want to play- but if there's silence, he start playing. Nothing incredible- nothing awe inspiring- just whatever happens to come to him, as we searched for a song to play.

"What do you want to play?" He asked me in that unique way only we knew: through the music, as it resonated with our beings. We could have entire conversations in this magical way now, if we so pleased... and so I set my fingers on the keys, to answer him. Playing, like he did, whatever tune happened to come to me... I searched for the words to explain, but I just couldn't think of a way to explain- I didn't know what was going through my mind, it was a feeling I couldn't quite make sense of... So I just played it all out in a heap of notes and emotions... and somehow, the words found themselves in the song, and resolved themselves into a question. The piano somehow understanding my tangled brain and emotions into a coherent message.

"Do you ever feel like your life has been building up to one moment?" The music translated.

I could sense the mood change in his music- almost like I could see the gentle smile that had spread across his face.

"I'd say that was a very good place to start." He told me.

Then, we had the foundations for our song. We wiped the whole thing afresh, like the introduction that we'd been playing up until then had never happened- and entered an entirely different realm of a song that spoke of the past.

The day we met... and years spent waiting. The day we reunited... and the day we played once more. We remembered it all. Our entire life story together, playing out through the song. It was so easy- we just let the memories move our hands, and a piece of music flowed out from it.

Music just had a way of letting us express ourselves- and we'd grown to the point that we didn't even have to think about what we were playing anymore; we just let our bodies roam with our feelings, and let the music do its thing. We'd close our eyes and play whatever was on our minds, or in our hearts. It was a unique way of playing, but it meant that no two songs we played were ever exactly the same. They changed and shifted with our moods and thoughts. One day, Jack might be playing the main tune, while I support the song- and yet, if we try to repeat it, he might end up being the one supporting. It was mad, but that was the way things were. We'd just find a way for our two seperate instruments to join together, and then nothing could stop us.

Whenever I was lost for what to play, Jack would give me something to play from- and because of that, our inspiration was almost endless. I remember, one time, he got overexcited about a bird in the garden (and, ironically, nature's singer then became the subject of our song). And I remember how we'd sometimes play something randomly depressing, after a particularly sad moment in a film or a tv show.

That's how big a part of our lives music is to us. It pops up at the most unlikely times, and it seems like we can never truly let it go completely- a tune will always be in our heads, even if we aren't playing it. We just couldn't get rid of it. To say that music was our life, though, was way too cheesy... Even if it was.

Even aside from our daily escapades of call and response at opposite ends of the house- to one of us initiating a song for no other reason than for the sake of a song- we actually managed to turn it into a career. It was surprisingly well paying- enough that we never struggled financially, but not to the point that we lived like kings. We never wanted to be rich, though- we were perfectly happy just being happy.

Life is basically a dream right now. I live well, with a smile on my face, music by my side, and an idiot violinist who never fails to brighten my day.

That's not to say that it's always been perfect, though- there's been plenty of downs as well as highs. Sure things have been happy most of the time- like the time, we decided to play a small concert in the park where we met.

I think it was some kind of aniversary thing- one year since I came across that silver ghost... or was it a month? It was too long ago now for me to remember straight. Looking back on it, we probably looked like a pair of homeless people, playing in the street for money, but neither of us cared. Because, when we played together, we cast a magic over everyone. Listeners, passers by- even (and, perhaps, especially), each other. It was like the whole park was spellbound by music. But the best part, by far, that always sticks to my memory, was when Jack started dancing.

He tried to keep still- I could tell he really did- but he just couldn't help himself. He'd twirled around the piano- even drifting out towards the small crowd that had gathered around us. Next thing we know, this little kid started dancing with him. Just a small, bold child jumping about after him, with flailing arms and clumsy feet. And just that one boy's courage was all it had took. By the end of the song, Jack had a whole line of kids following him around. I remember making some kind of joke about how he was like the pied piper of Berkess- but, secretly, I was privately amazed at the whole thing.

That was the kind of thing that always astonished me. How something as simple as two boys and a little music, could inspire complete strangers to get up and dance with each other. It always seemed like something out of a movie, and yet things like that just seemed to happen when I was around that crazy violinist. Pretty soon, things like that just became a normal part of our life... And we came to understand that we had something special. It wasn't just an occasional thing- together we really could do things which others might call extraordinary.

When we were happy, like that day in the park we could inspire people to create an unexpected dance... When we were sad, we could bring even full grown men to tears- or, if we were so moved, we could even bring about tears of sheer happiness and joy... and we've brought about a lot of tears over the years... and shed a lot of them too.

Jack lost both his sister and his mother to a car accident, when they hit a patch of black ice one night and never made it home... and he'd lost his father before he was even born, so he didn't even have him... He'd was all alone- and, soon after, he'd gone into a deep depression.

It had been a long road to recovery. I spent many, many, hours trying to help him out of the dark pit of nightmares and shadows of his grieving. I always felt so helpless when I comforted him, but I did my best to be there for him, and come up with the best words I could to get him through it... just as he did for me all those years ago. He looked after me following my mother's death; so I did my best to try and repay that favour. It was hard, but he finally got through it... and we grew stronger because of it.

But then, no sooner had he stopped leaning on me for support, had he suddenly needed to step up and look after me. My leg got taken over by a bright red infection that soon turned septic. Jack panicked that I'd got the bubonic plague- and we laughed about how I must've caught the black death's sinister, red cousin: the red death... But it had quickly become hard to make light of it when I ended up needing an amputation.

Recovering from surgery had been easy enough, but the rehabilitation, and having to teach myself how to walk again, was about as simple as talking Jack out from his depression. It took time, and a more than a few tantrums, but, like the depression, we got through that as well.

I now like to consider it my equivalent to Jack's impressive 'defying death' stunt all those years ago (if he could spend two hours as a comatose ghost and not bat an eye, I could do the same losing half a leg).

Having to look after me, whilst I got used to using prosthetics, was hard on both of us. He had to literally support me for everything- even something as simple as going to bed. Him being willing to do all that for me was the easy part- getting me to accept his help, or call on him when I needed it, was a whole different matter. I was as stubborn they came- and, more often than not, Jack ended up helping me whether I wanted it or not.

A few weeks into the rehabilitation process, we got a call about some kind of canine assistance program to see whether or not having a four legged friend actually helped people like me missing a limb. Less than a week later, we had a dog. Toothless, I named him- after one of my favourite characters from a children's book when I was little. Jack didn't take to the idea as much as I did, and pouted a little when the Labrador finally arrived. He insisted I didn't need a dog, with him around, but it turned out Toothless was a great little helper. I think Jack got a little jealous over that, and started racing the dog to follow my orders first. I maybe took a little bit too much advantage of that, but it was far too enjoyable to ignore.

With the addition of Toothless to our household, our little family seemed pretty much complete- Jack and Toothless never seemed to get along, but we could live with that. Everything had seemed perfect. I had a great housemate, an affectionate, furry friend and a father that supported me from afar... My world was complete... and so naturally, something had to gone wrong... And that something was the death of my father.

We were out on a massive, wild camping trip- somewhere far from civilisation, and snowy. I was taking Toothless out for a somewhat early morning walk. The black dog ran off ahead of me- and, with my fake leg slowing me down, I soon lost sight of him. So when I saw a black blur ahead of me, I assumed it was him... But it wasn't. It was a black bear that I'd just disturbed from its hibernation. I thought I was going to die. I would've done, if dad hadn't pushed me out the way and given me a chance to escape.

By the time emergency services got to us... It was too late. My dad was gone.

At the time, I blamed myself for abandoning him like a coward, but I eventually realised that it was his choice to save me- and I decided I wasn't going to let his sacrifice be in vain. I was going to live my life to the fullest... Although, at first, that thought did little to soften the blow. For a long time, I couldn't even look at Toothless without being reminded of the black beast that killed my father- I knew it wasn't his fault, but I just couldn't help myself. Jack had to look after him until I came to my senses. Now, looking back, I find it touching how the the two of them resolved their differences for my sake.

Yes, it had been a rough time- possibly one of the darkest moments of my life, but I got through it... He got me through it. My white haired guardian- once again, saving me from myself.

...As we played through each moment of our lives- the light and the dark, the joy and sorrow... I realised just how much that brilliant violinist had been there for me... and just how much I'd been there for him... We had something special, didn't we. The kind of something most people spent their whole lives searching for. I cracked my eyes open a little, to peek at my frosty haired angel... The way he smiled as he played. The sway of his body, and tap of his foot, as he resisted the urge to dance across the stage. The way the spotlights shone off his snowy white hair, and pale, smooth skin- like he was still made of that mysterious moonlight from when I first found him... I smiled to myself... I was a lucky guy.

The two of us fit together perfectly- like two halfs of a duet. Alone, the seperate instruments were good enough to deserve a modest applause- but bring them together, and you have an awe inspiring piece of music that redefines the world. Shifting it into focus, with beautiful array of light and colour.

Were we perfect for each other? Made to be together? Of course not- that was way too cliche... But true.

We're not perfect- we've had plenty of little spats over the years; falling out, and getting back together, just like any couple would. He'd get mad- I'd get mad- and it'd seem like the whole world was collapsing on us. But it never did. Most the things we argued about just seem stupid now. Like the time he thought I was favouring the dog over him- something that had been simmering in the violinist for years. He eventually snapped, and stormed off- but not before a massive, heartbreaking argument that had left both of us feeling like we'd been stabbed painfully in the chest. Although, I had no room to talk. I did the same with one of his friends (our neighbour, Tiana). She got a little too close to him for me to be comfortable with it, and paranoia took care of the rest. It actually turned out I was right about her making moves on him- but he carefully rebuffed her, and they managed to stay friends.

No matter what would happen between us, eventually we'd get back together. We'd say: that's it. It's over. I hate you, and I never want to see you again... And yet, we'd still kiss and make up in the end. We never stay mad at each other for long. How could we when we just kept serenading each other back into our lives? It's hard to storm away from each other, when you live next door- and we could easily hear each other play through the walls.

It had been a game at first- playing to each other through the houses to entertain ourselves- but it became a lifeline when we fell out with each other. It made making up- well, maybe not easy- but definitely not as hard as it might've been. Once, I had to play an apologetic piano song for three hours straight before he forgave me, when I broke his violin- and even then I had to agree to pay for a new one.

Yes, life has been a very rocky road so far, with more than its fair share of ups lots of downs- but, through it all... music has been there. Music was what had brought us together- and, what led us to get together.

No one really knows when we officially became a couple. Was it when we realised it was love? When we said those three immortal words? The first kiss? There never really was a defining point for us getting together. We hadn't instantly fallen for each other, like some fairytale, and we couldn't quite decide when it had become love.

But there was one day that just stuck to my mind: when an old lady complimented our music, and told us what a cute couple we were. It was before we really realised it was that kind of relationship, and we just kind of looked at each other, and realised: you know what? We are.

Needless to say the song we played after that was particularly joyful (and dare I say romantic?).

A part of that song subtly slipped into the one we were playing right now. I'm fact, all of them were. It seemed that a little piece of every song we'd ever played was coming together to form this. A culmination of two lifetimes of song, in a single, breathtaking duet... And it was starting to build up to its climax. To the present.

I started thinking, then, about everything that I'd been through... that we'd been through. Every heaven and hell the world had thrown at us... and, you know what? After losing my mother; meeting a ghost, which I lost, only to be reunited with him again four years later; signing a record deal with a world renowned company; losing a leg to brutal disease, and gaining a furry friend because of it; living with someone who battling with depression, and staying with them on the long, arduous journey back into the sunlight; breaking up and making up with them like I was inside a soap drama; losing my only family, and battling my way to the end of the world championships... Maybe it had been hard, sometimes- a lot of the time, even... But, you know what? I wouldn't change it for the world. I felt something powerful swelling up inside me, and I started hitting the piano keys with more and more strength.

It's been amazing.

I struck a strong, powerful chord that resonated throughout the hall with its grandeur- a mighty sound of a man that had faced his hardships and come out on top. Jack took his cue, pulling out an earth shattered sound, from of the violin, that lay open our hearts for all the audience to see. And it gave me strength like nothing I'd ever felt before.

I'd never felt so confident, and at peace, in my whole life. I was in perfect command of everything around me. I was in my place- where I belonged. Sat at the piano, with Jack by my side. This song didn't deserve merely trying my best- I was giving it everything. Jack gave me this incredible strength, and I'll be damned if I didn't take every single second of it for granted. There wasn't any force on Earth that could stop us now.

It was like the stars had aligned- everything falling into place, as foundations of our world opened up to sang a perfect harmony that erupted across the Earth. It stared down reality in the face, and said: you sent everything you could at us, and you still couldn't bring us down. Well, just look at us now.

We were more than just playing a song, in that moment: we were standing on top of the world. Shining brightly for all to see. We've been through worst of hell, and best of heaven- and we've conquered it all. Do you see our world now? See what we've become? Our world had grown into something so big and so bright- filled with a starburst of infinite colour you can only dream to imagine of. Stronger than the sun- more powerful than the moon, and more beautiful than the northern lights.

This is our world. This is who we are. Together. Indomitable. Unstoppable. Powerful.

We've fought the world, and we've won. Just two of us. Two beings. One soul.

And then, that one, underlying feeling that surrounded everything, rose up and took command of all our emotions. It took everything about the song and made bigger, stronger and heart wrenchingly powerful. But this time I recognised it like an old friend. I knew this feeling now. It suffused my life- and now, my song.

It was the one I devoted entirely to that violin player, in all his inner and outer beauty. Every flaw and perfection- the best and the worst of him. I cared for and accepted it all. Every piece of him.

I'd never felt it so clearly as in that moment. And suddenly three words arose that were just begging to be said. Words that I had never before committed to music, because they were already written in our hearts. They drifted through that all consuming emotion that surrounded us even now. Powerful, and unspoken. But now was the moment. Now was the right time to say it. Now, as everything came together.

But, just before I did, the world seemed to halt in a strange lull, as a realisation came over me. This song that we'd been playing. I was almost certain that it had gone over the time limit that had been set for the competition. Which meant we'd probably forfeited our chance at winning... But, I just didn't care. This song was worth every moment. We were letting it take its course, and play for as long as it needed to be played. To its fullest, and most beautiful extent. That way, maybe if we had blown the competition, we might at least have blown a few minds as well.

Besides... I got to play a song with the person I cared about most than the world, what more could I ask for?

The truth was that music didn't define our relationship. It was our relationship. It forever played in our hearts, in a way that only we will ever truly understand... and sat there, playing with that once upon a time spirit, in front of thousands of people; probably televised to millions more, with that beautiful, heartfelt feeling connecting us like we shared a single heart- about to commit himself to the biggest words I could offer up, from the bottommost depths of my heart... There wasn't anything, on this Earth, I'd rather be.

Life is a song that you play by yourself. You choose what you play, and how the symphony goes. Chances are that song will be full of highs and lows- but, if you find the right person to share a duet, you may just find a way to make it truly magical.

"I love you."

 **A/N: hope you liked it^^ quick question- if the wolf story was translated to Hijack, would you prefer that one or a combination of the two Angel ones? ^^ see you later!Enjoy the cake!**


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